The Love That Binds Us Is More Important
by illmatchtheminrenown
Summary: After losing so much, Merlin forges an alliance and finds a way to bring not only Arthur, but his Round Table, back to the world someday. Can Merlin bring back their memories of their past? And will fate repeat itself, or can destinies be changed? Primary romantic relationship is Arwen, with possible side of Merdred, but as with the series, the heart is the Arthur/Merlin friendship
1. Prologue

_Prologue: Camelot_

Merlin knelt at the side of the lake of Avalon, watching the now peaceful waters that hid such powerful magic. He had lost _everything. _His friends, gone; his destiny, lost; and Arthur- gone. Merlin allowed himself to weep for the life he had lost. For Gwen, his oldest friend who he could not bear to face and tell her he'd failed. For Gwaine, always ready with a joke or an affectionate smile, who he'd never see again. For Lancelot, the loyal friend who'd kept his secret to the grave. Leon, Elyan- his friends for years. For Gaius, who had been the father he never got to have. Even for the Mordred that was, before everything went so terribly, terribly wrong, the steely, eager and clever young knight who was... but it didn't matter now. And Arthur- his king, best friend, and partner in destiny. He hoped one day they'd meet again, but some part of him whispered how unlikely that seemed. Not even bothering to wipe away his tears anymore, Merlin felt his overwhelming grief flooding every cell of his body, a powerful feeling stronger than any magic he'd ever known.

_Stronger than any magic..._

Merlin stood up, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, focused with sudden purpose. He didn't know if what he had in mind had ever been done before, or if it was even possible, but damned if he wasn't going to try. He was supposedly the most powerful sorcerer ever to exist; if anyone could do this, he thought grimly, it would have to be him. As he reached for the magic, a sudden gust of wind alerted him that he was not alone. A white dragon landed suddenly beside him.

"Aithusa_?_" She dipped her head slightly in acknowledgement. Merlin turned away, not wanting to see the dragon whose flame had led to Arthur's downfall. "Why are you here?" he asked, not meeting her eyes nor expecting any reply. She struggled for a moment, then spoke one word. "Help."

Merlin's head jerked up. "Help? You need my help? And, I don't know, you thought this would be a good time to ask?" he shouted, his anger growing. She shook her head. Then, extending her nose very slowly, she reached out to make contact with the dragonlord's hand.

_No. I do not need help, Dragonlord. I offer it. _A raspy but distinctively female voice echoed inside Merlin's head. It took all he had not to jerk away from the contact, but he managed to keep his hand on her nose to maintain the connection.

"What do you mean? Help with..." Merlin trailed off as he realized what she was saying. Somehow, someway, she knew. And she was offering the magic she possessed to assist him with the massive undertaking he was about to attempt.

_I may not possess the wisdom of your great friend Kilgarrah, but I am a dragon. I have the knowledge and senses of my kind. What you desire, great warlock, is too much for any one being. Even you. But with two, perhaps it is possible._

_"_Why would you offer this? I thought you were with_ her?" _Merlin asked, still not trusting the dragon before him. Aithusa dipped her head in shame.

_It is my fault. If I had not done as the witch asked, this land might still be thriving. Magic, and my kind, might have a chance once more. This is my penance, Dragonlord. I will meld my magic with yours, but you must guide it. Guide it with all the love and grief in your heart. And perhaps we will succeed._

Merlin considered only for a moment. There was nothing he wanted more. Emotion overruling his doubts, he nodded. With one hand extended towards the magical waters and the other on Aithusa's nose, Merlin reached for the magic. As he began to speak in the ancient words of magic, he felt waves of his own grief and the love he had for his friends flooding and combining with the intense magic emanating from the dragon at his side. Weaving threads of magic, he reached out for the faces of those he'd lost, tying them together with his spell and pouring his own life force into the bonds. Finally, exhausted, Merlin released the magic, leaning instinctively against the dragon's side, feeling her exhaustion through their still-intact connection.

_It is done, Dragonlord. The King will rise again someday. And when he does, so will those tied to him in destiny. It is your task, Merlin, to find him, and to wake him to his true self again. When he does, so will they._

"Aithusa? What about the others? Morgause, Morgana...Mordred? They are part of his destiny too. I don't know...I don't know if they might have slipped into the bonds I wove." The warlock looked up at her worriedly.

_As to that, I cannot say. But it will be a new age. A new chance. Perhaps, even, a new destiny. _With a rustle of wings, Aithusa moved to take off. _Goodbye, Dragonlord. I doubt we will meet again._

"Goodbye, Aithusa. And- thank you."

_**So, what do you think? How do you feel about this take on the reincarnation setup? I have a feeling this is going to be the longest fic I've ever written, so some feedback on this initial prologue would be nice. The rest will take place in modern day. Also, I'm going to need alternate names for the modern-day incarnations of the knights, especially Gwaine and Mordred, since their names aren't easily altered to unobtrusive modern names. Suggestions are welcome. Also, updates will probably be sporadic since I have classes most days, but I'll do my best to keep this going. **_

_**~C**_


	2. Musings on a Long Life

_Britain, modern day_

As the city below buzzed with nightlife, Merlin collapsed into bed, still fully clothed and completely unable to close his eyes. His eyes darted around his flat as he tried in vain to calm his mind enough to get at least a little rest that night. For someone who had been alive for more centuries than he cared to remember, he had remarkably few possessions in his comfortable but spare home. It was too much to continually accumulate things, especially since he changed his life so frequently. Instead- with a little help from his magic- each new life was a new identity, a new home, and entirely new possessions, with all traces of the previous life wiped away. Only a few items made the transition with him from place to place, from life to life. There was a pendant Gwen had given him before her death, with its small, deep purple amethyst stone constantly reminding him of his friend and queen. A clasp from the cloak of a knight of the Round Table. On his bedside table sat an intricately carved wooden box Gaius had given him with the explanation that it was a family heirloom that rightfully belonged to his son (Merlin had not been able to hold back his tears at that). And the item he'd had the longest, one he had actually possessed years before the end of Camelot as he knew it: a small disk with a symbol carved in it- Ygraine Pendragon's sigil, which Arthur had given him when he was planning to sacrifice himself to close the veil. These possessions, of infinite value, stayed with Merlin always, preserved with relatively simple spells so they did not decay with age.

Rolling over, Merlin's thoughts drifted to the days after he finally returned to Camelot. After some time alone with Gwen to explain the circumstances and to grieve together, he had called together the few survivors of that band who had pledged their loyalty to Arthur around the first Round Table in that cave years ago. Meeting their eyes with difficulty, he confessed his magic to them and explained what he had done at the lake's edge. After asking their forgiveness for keeping such a secret for so long, he had offered them each a choice. His spell would bind them together in death and in new life, but he understood that they might want to simply rest in peace. Merlin asked each of them to choose if they would like to be taken out of the web of life he had woven, to not return when the others did. Predictably, Gwen lost all queenly demeanor as she made it quite clear that she would find a way to haunt him for eternity should he not give her the chance to have a whole new life with Arthur one day, then hugged him fiercely, whispering her thanks in his ear. The remaining knights exchanged glances for only a moment before Leon spoke for them all a simple affirmation. Only Gaius requested to be left out, telling Merlin that he was an old man, and this was a time for the young to build a new world.

So Merlin had kept his word. When Gaius died a few years later, peacefully passing in his sleep, Merlin wept for the only father he'd truly known and laid him to rest with the promise of eternal peace. As time passed, he began to feel the pain of seeing off his friends, one by one. Out of the knights, only Sir Leon lived to die of old age, leaving Gwen to mourn him as she would her own brother, and Merlin to wait for the dreaded day when his queen would leave him too. And when that day finally did come, Gwen called him to her chambers, where he climbed into her bed and held his oldest friend, smoothing back her gray hair and holding the soft and slightly wrinkled hand until she breathed her last, with the words, "It's not goodbye, remember. I'll be seeing you, Merlin."

As the centuries passed, Merlin learned to move with the times. He never moved far from Camelot, even when the kingdom had long since ceased to exist. And he waited, waited for the day when he would see his friends rise again. He kept himself busy, doing all he could in every age to save lives. He amused himself by creating new names for his various false identities. Over the years, he watched in vague awe as the legends of King Arthur and the golden age of Camelot spread around the world. Of course, he thought wryly, most versions got it wrong. That was another way he had stayed entertained over the centuries- keeping tabs on all the versions of the story he had lived. Most got one, maybe two parts right. One or two- one modern version in particular, he mused- managed a surprising degree of accuracy. Sometimes, he couldn't help laughing. Of course he would be remembered as the old man disguise he had used, although he hated that the age gap it produced tended to twist and obscure the relationship that had defined his life, his friendship with Arthur. And the stories that portrayed Gwaine as the paragon of virtues, of all things, chastity? That one sent him into actual tears of laughter. With the dawn of film, there was a whole new category of fun: how completely unlike the people he'd known these versions looked. Although, he had to admit, he'd rather enjoyed the animated one. But not all of what he heard made him smile. The idea of Mordred as Arthur and Morgana's son made him recoil the first time he saw it, and the disgust really hadn't lessened with time. He did regret, deep within him, how history and legend had remembered those two. Terrible as their deeds eventually had been, Merlin still remembered the brave, clever, compassionate woman Morgana had been, and the days when Mordred was so loyal he sometimes doubted the boy's destiny and so understanding he sometimes dared to feel not entirely alone. But the worst, as far as Merlin was concerned, was how Queen Guinevere had been changed in these legends from the wise, capable, and compassionate queen he had loved and served to a fickle woman and unfaithful wife he didn't even recognize. He mourned that the world did not remember her goodness or Lancelot's nobility, but that the false affair contrived by Morgana had become a black mark on their names forever. That was the problem, he supposed, with loving creatures of myths: the myth inevitably was nothing like reality. Only in this case, reality was the better of the two.

* * *

Merlin hadn't expected anything different that day when he had gone to class. Over the years, he had acquired several degrees; he figured he might as well become as educated as possible, especially to keep up with the times. This time, studying in Britain where he felt most at home, he was under the guise of a twentysomething doctoral student of political science named Rhys Mage (it amused him that his name was essentially a diminutive of his prophetic name and, literally, "wizard"). It was the first day of a new session, and he was sitting in the second row of a course on theories of rule. _Of course, I've probably got more experience with actual rulers than anyone here, _he thought to himself with a slight smirk as he remembered the wise clotpole of a king he had advised. Just as the small class was getting started, the back door of the room flew open as a student dashed in late.

"Ah, Miss Smith. I thought you might've been driven away by that unfortunate class of mine last semester," the professor remarked dryly, as she cast an almost fond smile at the newcomer.

Merlin didn't bother to turn around, instead using the distraction to grab a new pen and mutter a quick spell on his notebook to clear an ink blot from his previous, leaky pen.

"Of course not! I'm so sorry I'm late, Professor!" Miss Smith cried, slightly out of breath as she slipped into a seat two rows behind and to the side of Merlin.

Merlin's pen dropped to the floor with a clatter at the sound of her voice. As he ducked down to pick it back up, his heart began pounding so loudly he began to think his classmates must be able to hear it.

_It can't be. I'm hearing things. I'm hearing what I wish I would hear. I'm making her voice sound like that in my head. _When the professor turned around to write on the board, Merlin quickly turned his head to the side, just enough to see the woman who had spoken. If his heart could have sped up any more, it would have, as one look was enough for him.

_Guinevere._

* * *

_**Did you expect Merlin to encounter one of our friends this quickly? Let's see how he reacts! Also, in case anyone was wondering, Ygraine's sigil comes from a deleted scene from the S4 two-part premiere. I wanted to get the beginning of the modern-day segment started before I get swamped the rest of the week, so this update came much faster than I originally thought I'd manage. Special thanks to **_**AHarryPotterGleeMerlinFanGir l**_** and **_**Agana of the night _for my first two (wonderfully kind!) reviews! Please read and review, and, as before, if you have any ideas, specifically on modern-day names for characters such as Gwaine and Mordred, please, please let me know!_**

**_~C_**


	3. Guinevere

It had taken all of Merlin's willpower, honed over the centuries, not to jump out of his chair, dash over to Gwen, pick her up out of her seat and spin her around in an enormous hug. Instead, he hung back after class, purposely taking a long time to pack up, fiddling with his phone, and delaying as long as possible while she talked to Dr. Harper. He didn't know what he was going to say or do, only that he had to speak to her. Not just because he had missed her so very much, but because if she was there, that meant that somewhere, so were all the others. And that meant that Merlin was on the verge of what he had waited most of his life for: a new golden age, overseen by Arthur and Guinevere, with the knights and Merlin at their side. As Merlin got up to leave, Dr. Harper- a professor he'd taken classes with before and gotten along with quite well- noticed him and called out to stop him before he made it to the door.

"Rhys, come over here. I want you to meet another of my best students. This is Gwen Smith- I've known her since her freshman year, now she's the one doing the exciting research! Gwen, this is Rhys Mage- wonderful student, and quite the knack for history!" she introduced the two. Gwen smiled and extended her hand towards Merlin, who suddenly had to choke back a wave of emotion as he was reminded of another meeting, long ago, when a sweet servant girl had offered her hand and been kind to a smart-mouthed farm boy in the stocks.

"Nice to meet you," she said, with the friendly smile he had never forgotten. Quickly, he gathered his thoughts and tried to act normal as he shook her hand.

"Yes. Hello. Very nice to meet you too," he stumbled over his words slightly but was unable to contain his grin. "So, er, what's your research on?" he asked, curious to see what Gwen would be like as a modern woman.

"I'm researching women as rulers in Western Europe. Everyone always remembers, you know, King Henry and Kaiser Wilhelm and all that. But, you know, there've been a lot of female rulers with great accomplishments too! It's just that they seem to get forgotten. But there are patterns and ideologies and all that with them that I've been working on analyzing, kind of an intersection between the political side as rulers and the social aspect of feminism."

Merlin couldn't suppress his smile from spreading even further across his face. That was Gwen, without a doubt: passionate, capable, and very determined to prove women could be equal to men. Forcing himself not to smile so broadly, he remembered a day long, long ago when she and Morgana had insisted on coming with him and Arthur to help his village- and then how she had rallied all the women to help fight as well. He supposed that her attraction towards studying female rulers was some bit of her life as Queen of Camelot still subconsciously guiding her. _She's doing all this research, and doesn't even know that she herself was one of the greatest of them all. _Merlin realized belatedly that he was on the verge of tears at the unexpected emotion this day had brought. He needed to be alone, as much as he hated to go.

"Er, I have to get to a... meeting," he improvised, "so I'd better be going."

"Nice meeting you, Rhys. See you!" Gwen called as he left.

"Great meeting you too, Gwen," he replied as he hurried out. But once he was out the door and alone in the hallway, Merlin allowed himself a moment of giddy delight, running down the hallway, eyes glowing, and sliding much further than he should have been able to without a little extra assistance. He knew how much he had to do now, but for this moment, he could just revel in seeing one of his friends again and knowing that, somewhere, the others were finally walking the earth once more.

* * *

Merlin had to make his choice: stay where he was, with Gwen nearby, and hope that the magic binding them all would eventually bring everyone together, or drop his classes, leave her behind, and strike out on a quest to find Arthur and awaken him. That night, he couldn't sleep as he pondered this decision. Ultimately, however, he knew deep down there really was no choice. Now that he'd found Gwen- or, more likely, she'd found him without even knowing it- he couldn't leave. If the bonds of friendship and love, strengthened by magic, had drawn two of them together unconsciously, it stood to reason that the same bonds would eventually bring them all together. This power, based not just in magical power but in love, had to be the strongest thing Merlin had seen in all his years. Unbidden, a memory stirred in the back of his mind to confirm this very idea, a memory of blue eyes and a man's voice, many years ago, explaining his own shift in loyalties. _The love that binds us is- _Merlin cut off the memory quickly, harshly. That was another problem for another day. For now, he had one more choice to make: keep his distance from Gwen until her memories returned, or reach out to her as Rhys and try to build a new friendship in this new world. And for the second time, Merlin knew that he really only had one option. There was no way he could be this close to Gwen, so often, and not be her friend. He couldn't help it; not just because of the friendship they'd shared years ago, but because she was just that kind of person. Besides, he thought, not without affection, Gwen would never let him forget it once she had her memories back, if he just sat there and let them stay mere acquaintances in any life.

So that's exactly what he did. In the next week or two of class, unfortunately, he was unable to sit by Gwen or talk to her at all. Because the class was relatively small and Dr. Harper incredibly eagle-eyed, he didn't dare use magic to tweak the circumstances in his favor. As the days went on and Merlin only managed to exchange a few nods and brief greetings with Gwen, his frustration grew. Finally, one day it seemed luck was finally on his side. As he walked out of class one day, he suddenly heard Gwen's familiar voice call out behind him.

"Hey! Rhys!" He turned around instantly, so quickly he was momentarily embarrassed by the rapidity of his reaction. Gwen dashed up to him, still smiling but with a bit of worry behind her eyes. "Could I ask you something?"

"Sure." _Anything._ "What d'you need?"

"Well, I was having a little trouble with one of my other classes. It's leaning more towards theories based out of the Middle East, and I'm not that familiar with that region. Dr. Harper mentioned you had taken that class last semester- I was wondering, could you maybe help me study a bit?" When Merlin didn't respond for a moment, her eyes suddenly widened with panic. "Oh, God, I hope you don't think I'm a creeper or something! I know we barely know each other. It's just... the other day, when we met, you seemed so kind. And as much as I love this place and this program, it seems like everyone prefers competitive to kind. So I just thought..." she trailed off a bit awkwardly, reminding Merlin more of the occasionally fast-talking girl he'd known in his early days in Camelot than the dignified queen she had become. He quickly stopped her with an answer."

"Yes. Of course. I'd love to be your study partner."

"Really? Thank you, Rhys. D'you want to go grab a coffee and we can figure out some times to meet?" Gwen asked, her confidence back.

"Absolutely." Merlin shifted his books to his other side and offered his arm to Gwen. With a grin, she slipped her arm through his and they walked together, laughing, to begin a new friendship.

_**Another chapter, another brief note to all of my lovely readers! I've thought a lot about what I want these characters to be in the modern world, and I thought it would be interesting to make Gwen a scholar on the topic of female rulers. And I could easily imagine Merlin accumulating degree after degree! I promise I'll bring in some of the other characters soon, but I'm trying to hold off as long as possible since I haven't seen the end of Season 5 (I live in the US). As always, please read and review!**_


	4. Gwen's Question and Merlin's Answer

Weeks passed. A few months. Despite his near-constant worries about finding the others, Merlin couldn't help enjoying his new (or old... it hurt his head a little to figure out what tense to put things in) friendship with Gwen. They had become friends rather quickly- one more tiny remnant of their past buried somewhere deep in her subconscious. Besides, he had been so lonely for so long, he had almost forgotten what it felt like to have someone to be close to. Merlin had kept mostly to himself over the years, partly because he didn't want to have to reveal his secrets- if anyone would even believe them- but mostly because he knew he would outlive anyone and everyone he came to care for. He'd been through that pain once- he couldn't stand to again. Even all these years later, he still felt pangs when he was reminded of them. _Men with floppy b__lond hair. Women with caramel skin, or those dark-haired and impossibly fair. Long-haired men (the 1960s had been a nightmare). And a particular shade of blue, a pure, icy, beautiful blue._ So he had kept his relationships of every sort casual and tenuous at best, so that when they inevitably ended, there was as little pain as possible on both sides. While it kept his heart from breaking, it also kept him from the comfort and warmth that real relationships brought. So Merlin treasured his time with Gwen, even without her memories of their shared past, because it was the first time in ages- really, since they were friends the first time- that he had that again.

"Hey, Rhys? D'you mind if I ask you something?" Gwen asked one day, as they stretched out on the grass studying one afternoon.

"Sure thing," he replied, a little distracted as he viciously highlighted a particularly irritating passage in his assigned reading.

Picking up on the distraction in his voice, Gwen raised her head from where it had been resting on Merlin's legs, turning to look at him. "Um... it's kinda personal..." she trailed off, her brown eyes flickering between his face and the ground.

Merlin tore his eyes away from his book, suddenly alert and slightly wary. "Go on..."

"Are you gay?"

Whatever Merlin had been expecting, it certainly wasn't that. He choked, turning slightly red as she looked at him expectantly. "WHAT?" His voice reached an unnaturally high pitch in his surprise. Gwen blushed too, but stood her ground.

"It's just... A couple of my girlfriends know we hang out a lot, that we're...best friends..." her voice got smaller on those two words, "-and, they thought you were kinda cute, I guess, and they were just wondering...Sorry, it's probably none of my business."

By this point, Merlin had regained most of his composure. And he had an answer for her. He'd had plenty of time to think about this over the years, but this day and age seemed the most open to people of all stripes (though he still doubted he'd ever be able to be "out" in the way that mattered most). Looking at her still-embarrassed face, now turned back away from him as she determinedly focused on her book, he lowered his voice slightly to answer her.

"No, it's okay. I don't- I don't mind. Um...I'm not gay, exactly. I guess you'd say I'm bi. I mean, I've had feelings for men, and been in love with women, too. I've had incredibly close platonic friendships with both, too. I mean, the best friends I had... when I was younger- one was a man, and one was a woman. _The handsome, wise, good king of Camelot, whom Kilgarrah called my other half, and the witty, dignified queen sitting unknowingly in front of me, right now. The best friends I've ever had._ And both were totally non-romantic. So, yeah, if you really want to know, long story short, I'm bi." His voice cracked only once during that speech, despite it being the first time he had ever vocalized that part of himself to anyone. But it wasn't on his admittance of who he had been in love with or attracted to, but who he had loved, period.

And besides, how could he be angry or upset when Gwen had just referred to him as her best friend? He'd lost all his best friends- Gwaine, Lancelot, Arthur, even Gwen herself- so those words were music to Merlin's lonely ears.

Unaware of Merlin's train of thought, Gwen looked relieved that she hadn't offended him as a familiar smile broke over her face.

"Good. That's...that's good. So in that case- there's this party, this Saturday night. One of my friends' birthday, we've known each other for pretty much all our lives, and she's throwing a big costume party. And I could use a date. I mean, just friends, obviously. So..."

"So... what?" Merlin replied nonchalantly, not looking up from his book. Gwen froze for a minute, uncertain if she actually had made him angry with her questions before noticing the smirk spreading across his face as he thoroughly enjoyed teasing her a little. Bursting into laughter, she smacked him on the arm.

"So," she yanked the book out of his hands playfully, "would you come with me? I'm sure my friends would love to meet you. Though I can't for the life of me see why they would, you ridiculous idiot," she laughed, dodging his arms in order to mess up his dark hair affectionately.

"Hey!" Merlin protested with faux indignance. But he too was laughing. As he got to his feet, he swept her an exaggerated bow. "It would be my honor." He reached down to help her to her feet, but since they were both still laughing, she lost her balance and stumbled straight into his arms- which only made them laugh more. Straightening up, Gwen slipped her arm through Merlin's, and together they walked to Dr. Harper's class.

_**So I know this chapter is a lot of inner thoughts and exposition and not a ton of plot, but I promise it's important! I really wanted to establish early on that Merlin is bisexual, and I think an argument could be made for it within the show's canon; I didn't want to dismiss his relationship with Freya, but it's hard to ignore the chemistry he has with at least a few male characters. But I also want to make it clear that, at least in this version/continuation, his relationship with Arthur is purely platonic and/or brotherly; he remains an enormous in-universe Arwen shipper. And I also needed an excuse to get him to agree to take Gwen to that party. Why? You'll have to wait for the next chapter to find out :) Also, this bit should've gone in the notes for Ch 3, but did anyone notice the (very) small tribute to another show I write fics for? It appears again at the end of this chapter. Tell me if you did! And as always, please read and review- I'm almost to the double-digit mark! Thanks for reading, as always.**_

_**~C**_


	5. The Costume

On the night of the party, Merlin stood in front of Gwen's door and sharply knocked twice. It had taken him quite some time to figure out what costume to wear- partly because he had _actually _worn too many of the so-called acceptable costumes. The supposedly humorous costumes annoyed him, he saw little point in dressing up as a profession like a doctor, and he most certainly was not venturing into the realm of "sexy" costumes. Which really left only one category: fantasy. Trouble was, he had either been or encountered the real things far too often. He couldn't be a monster- he'd seen too many. He couldn't be a knight or a king; he just couldn't bring himself to do that. _Oh, screw it, _an exasperated Merlin finally decided. _Why not? Might as well go as myself. For all anyone knows, it's just a costume. Bit odd, being a costume character. Oh well._

That's how he ended up standing in the hallway outside Gwen's apartment, wearing a long dark robe and carrying a staff, with a dark red cape held around him by a familiar silver clasp with a tree engraved on the back. Feeling both desperately uncomfortable in clothes like he once wore yet somehow calmed by their familiar weight, Merlin had broken his usual rule and brought a couple of his most treasured possessions with him for reassurance. Deep within the pockets of his robes, the cool weight of Arthur's sigil bounced ever so slightly against his hip, an anchor to remind him who he was then and who he had to be now. In another pocket, Gwen's own necklace was curled; he'd put it there when he decided to dress as a version of himself to remind him that, no matter how much she looked and acted like his old friend, the woman he was meeting was _not _the woman who had worn and given him that necklace. Not yet, at least.

After he knocked, Gwen's voice drifted from behind the door.

"Rhys? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me. Sorry, am I too early?" he asked through the door.

"No, no, I'm just running late! Come on in, the door's unlocked," Gwen called back. Doing as she said, Merlin let himself into her apartment. As he waited for Gwen to finish dressing, he plopped down on her soft blue-gray couch, where he had spent more than one night after pulling all-night study sessions. Looking around, he noticed- not for the first time- how very much like Gwen her apartment looked. It was artfully furnished in the manner one might expect from a young academic, practical, yet distinctly feminine and graceful. Unsurprisingly, her decor heavily featured shades of purple, blue, and a little red- colors he had come to associate with both the gentle and practical servant she had been and with the regal queen she had become. Lazily, he pulled out his smartphone and began playing a game while he waited. He finished one level quickly and was about to start another when a rustle and slight nervous cough alerted him that Gwen had entered the living room. Standing up quickly, he turned to look at her, and he had to exercise all his restraint to keep his mouth from falling open in utter shock.

"Well?" Gwen asked, turning on the spot a little shyly. "What d'you think?"

At a total loss for words, Merlin just stared for a moment. Gwen was wearing a floor-length, deep purple gown, cut close to her body on top and then flaring out into an elegant skirt that rustled as she moved. The intricate detailing on the bodice and sleeves was gold and more purple, glittering earrings sparkled at her earlobes, and her hair was long and loosely curled down her back. Standing in front of him was not Gwen Smith, his feminist academic best friend, but the regal Queen renowned for her beauty as much as her kindness and wisdom. Finally, he managed to speak.

"Wow, Gwen, you... you look wonderful," he said sincerely. Gwen blushed slightly and shrugged.

"Really? Do you really think so? I have a friend in the drama department, and she found this for me from an old Shakespeare production. I wasn't sure..."

"Really. You look beautiful." Merlin cut off her protestations firmly. "In fact," he reached into his pocket, "I think this would make it perfect." He pulled out the amethyst necklace and held it up for her to see. Gwen covered her mouth as she gasped.

"Oh, Rhys, it's beautiful. How did you- I couldn't-"

"I overheard you talking to your costuming friend the other day about an old gown," he improvised, "and I had this, and thought I'd bring it and see if it'd match. It was left to me by... by an old friend. Go on, let's see how it looks." He held it out to her.

"Are you sure?" He nodded, and she burst into a giddy grin like any girl with pretty jewelry. "All right, help me with the clasp." Gwen pulled her hair out of the way as Merlin settled the necklace around her throat and fastened the golden clasp behind her neck. Gwen looked in the mirror, touching the sparkling pendant gently. "It's beautiful, Rhys. It's...it's perfect. Thank you." An uncertain expression flitted across her face, but when Merlin looked again, he was certain he'd just imagined it. "One more favor- would you help me with this, too? I can't get it to sit right." Turning to face Merlin again, she held out an object he hadn't even noticed she'd been holding: a costume tiara, made of a golden metal and sparkling with false gems that matched the purple of her gown and necklace. Merlin swallowed- this was all getting to be a bit too much for him. But Gwen was looking at him expectantly, so he swallowed his emotions and put on a playful smile.

"Go on, then, kneel down so I can crown you," he teased, taking the tiara from her hands. Rolling her eyes, Gwen hiked her skirts up a bit and knelt in front of Merlin. As he lifted the tiara towards her, Merlin was struck by the memory of the first time she had knelt to be crowned, and overwhelmed by an urge to somehow commemorate that moment, even if she couldn't remember it. _This probably isn't a good idea. But it can't do any harm,_ he thought to himself. So as he raised the tiara above her head, he began to speak. Not in English, but in an ancient and powerful language- the same tongue that gave him the words used in his spells. Gwen's head jerked up.

"What are you _saying? _What is that?" she asked, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she looked up at her slightly eccentric best friend. Merlin grinned back at her.

"Shh!" he mock-scolded her. "Didn't I tell you? I didn't just study political science as an undergraduate. I studied linguistics, too. Learned a lot about old English dialects especially."

"So? What were you saying, then?"

"I was crowning you queen, you know, like they do in movies and history and all that. But in a really old Welsh dialect. It was once said, many centuries ago, that this particular dialect was the language of magic, that the words had some sort of power," Merlin replied, leaving out the fact that what was "said" was accurate.

"So does that make me an actual queen, if you crown me in that language?" Gwen teased. Merlin fought to keep his face impassive and smiling.

"Sure, why not? You can be the greatest queen that ever lived," he replied. His tone was teasing, but the words were the truest he'd ever said. Gesturing for her to bow her head again, he spoke words he knew she wouldn't understand. But if she could have, she would have heard him say, "By the sacred laws of the land, and as the proxy of the great King Arthur, I crown you Guinevere, Queen of Camelot." As Merlin settled the tiara on her head, they shared a smile.

Suddenly, Gwen let out a cry of pain, sinking back on her heels as if struck down suddenly. Merlin fell to his knees beside her, reaching out protectively.

"Gwen? Gwen, what is it? What's wrong?" he asked, panicking. _Oh God, did I say something wrong? I didn't even work a spell! I just spoke in the language. It must be something else. What do I do? _He put one arm around Gwen as she rocked back and forth, her hands pressed to either side of her head.

"Oh, God, my _head!" _She seized one of Merlin's hands, leaving one on her temple, as she cried out again. "It hurts! What's happening to me? _Merlin!"_

**_GASP! *dramatic music plays* Is Queen Guinevere awake? Is this a fluke, just one more thing to break Merlin's heart? Next chapter shall answer! Sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger like this :) I know this is listed as friendship and romance genres; I promise we'll get to the romance half very soon! Also, no one guessed the reference in the previous chapters: the professor's name is Dr. Harper, after Dr. Owen Harper of_**** Torchwood. ****_Anyways, the usual plea for reviews; I really enjoy reading your feedback and it makes me a better writer. Thanks to all my wonderful readers, especially you who've favorited and followed this story. A particular shout-out goes to _****gorgeousangel,****_ who has been kind enough to review every chapter so far! And Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!_**

**_~C_**


	6. The First Return

_Gwen looked up at her friend as he settled the tiara on her head, and they shared a smile. Suddenly, Gwen let out a cry of pain, sinking back on her heels as if struck down suddenly. Rhys fell to his knees beside her, reaching out protectively._

"Gwen? Gwen, what is it? What's wrong?" he asked, panicking. He put one arm around Gwen as she rocked back and forth, her hands pressed to either side of her head as a sudden onslaught of images, feelings, sounds rushed through her head.

_A mother's presence, warm and loving but gone too soon. A man with the strong yet surprisingly gentle hands of a master blacksmith. A protective young man, with eyes like hers. There was a castle, a beautiful stone castle bustling with life. Hard work, yet satisfying and happy. _More faces flashed before her eyes. _A fair and beautiful woman with raven hair, whose eyes morphed from merry and kind to cold and cruel as she watched. A handsome young man with tan skin, clasping her hand. A man with a teasing grin and long hair, putting a daisy in her hair. A friend with messy hair and noble bearing who- wait, why is he wearing a dress? And one more young man, handsome and blond, with blue eyes that danced with liveliness and yet concealed a great weight._

"Oh, God, my _head!" _She seized one of Rhys's hands, leaving one on her temple, as she cried out again. "It hurts! What's happening to me? More images flashed, this time accompanied by wave after wave of emotion_. The loss of a father, for a crime he did not commit. An impulsive kiss at sunrise, the first of many stolen moments for years to come. A round stone slab in a cave. A betrayal, no, two- those hurt, yet she couldn't remember what made her do it. A battle, wielding a sword against a former friend. More and more images of the blond man- kneeling before him as a weight settled on her head, memories of intimate and important moments shared, great joys and then, great grief._ Finally, one more face flashed, one that had hovered in every scene, a reassuring, reliable, and friendly presence, but never came into focus until now. _Wait. I know that face._ Gwen cried out as one more wave of memory seared its way into her mind. "_Merlin!"_

* * *

Merlin's heart nearly stopped when Gwen called him by his real name. Terrified, he pulled Gwen closer to him and tried to calm her, repeating her name over and over until the pain finally ceased and she was kneeling, shaking and breathing hard, in his arms. Looking up at him, she slowly lowered her hands from her head, sat up just slightly, and met his eyes. In that shared look, in Gwen's eyes, Merlin could see his queen. But he had to be certain, he told himself. _What if I'm wrong?_

"Gwen? Are you alright?" he asked tentatively.

"Yes. I'm quite alright...Merlin," she responded calmly. Merlin felt an overwhelming sense of fear and guilt and heaven knows what else, but mixed with a spark of joy at having Gwen- the real Gwen, the original Gwen- back with him. Seeing the look on his face, and reading it as she always had, Gwen pressed his hand in hers and smiled at him. "Merlin," she said again, testing out the memory, "it's me. I'm fine, promise. I...I remember. I remember everything. It seems your spell worked, didn't it?"

Merlin couldn't find the words. "I don't...I don't understand, this shouldn't..." He trailed off, muttering to himself. Sensing her friend's distress, Gwen squeezed his hand again.

"_Merlin. _It's alright. I'm fine, you're fine, everything is going to be alright now," she said, trying to reassure him. Merlin's head snapped up, and she was startled to see the pain and panic in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, milady. This is my fault- it shouldn't have happened like this," Merlin told her. "I should never have said what I did tonight. It was foolish and silly, and now look what's happened." When he saw Gwen's confused expression, he continued. "It was supposed to work differently! Arthur was supposed to wake, and all of you would wake then too. No one would have to suffer, no one would have to be alone with their memories while the people they loved had no idea who they were! And now...you...I'm so sorry, milady," he repeated again, standing up and turning away.

Gathering her skirts and standing up, Gwen drew herself up to her full height, feeling the physical memory in her body as she settled into a familiar, regal posture. Holding herself tall and dignified, she commanded, "Merlin. Merlin, look at me." Hearing the weight of calm command in her voice, Merlin turned to face her automatically.

"Now," Gwen began, "first things first. There is no need to address me so formally. We are friends. We have been dear friends for a very long time- this doesn't change that- it didn't then, and it doesn't now. Secondly," she continued, unconsciously lapsing into the patterns of speech she had used long ago as Queen of Camelot, "you mustn't blame yourself for any of this. You've done a great thing, Merlin. Don't you see? You've brought us through the ages, you've made it so we can be back together again, all of us. So what if it didn't go quite according to plan? I don't care that my memories returned a little early- I'm not alone..." Suddenly, Merlin's anguish made sense. "You were. You've been alone, all these years. Oh my God. Merlin. It is I who is so sorry." Moving swiftly to cross the distance between them, Gwen pulled Merlin to her in a hug. She heard the tiniest hitch in his breath before he wrapped his arms around her too.

They stood like that for a minute, until they finally broke apart with a laugh and a tear or two from both of them. Reaching up, Merlin tweaked her tiara affectionately as they moved to sit on the couch, the party forgotten, at least for the moment.

"So what happened, then? Tell me, Merlin, what happened after... after we were all gone?" Gwen asked. Merlin shook his head, running his hand through his dark hair.

"So much, Gwen. So, so much. To make a _very _long story short, I did as I said I would, with the magic and everything. But with you gone, Camelot began to weaken. I did the best I could, but without a leader like you or Arthur, it just wasn't enough. When the time came, I took a few things, items I couldn't bear to lose, and I left. There was nothing else I could do in the end. Since then, I've been moving from place to place, living life after life with a little help from my magic. And waiting, just waiting and searching. I wasn't quite sure how it would work, but if the spell had worked as I believed it had, then I knew eventually, it would draw us together somehow. And it has." He squeezed her hand with a genuine smile.

"Wait- you said you took some things... The necklace!" Gwen's hand flew to her throat, where her own necklace now sat. "What else? If you don't mind my asking..." she trailed off, afraid she had asked something too personal as Merlin's face creased slightly. He reached into his pocket.

"There's this," he held out the sigil, "It was Arthur's mother's, and then his. He gave it to me long ago, before he was even king. And then I've got a box Gaius gave me, a family heirloom." Merlin stopped there, but Gwen's keen observation noticed one more thing. Before he could stop her, she reached out to trace the silver clasp on his cloak.

"This too. I know this- it once held the cloak of a Knight of the Round Table. But...why...?" Gwen trailed off, sensing that there was something Merlin wasn't telling her. When he made no movement to stop her, only sighed, she gently turned the clasp over. On the back of every knight's clasp, there was a symbol engraved, something personal to represent that knight, and known only to the court engraver and the knight to whom it belonged. Some were easily known- Leon, for one, had a miniature image of his family home- but many were total secrets. This one, it seemed, fell into the latter category. Gwen was puzzled as she looked at the image on the back of the clasp Merlin wore: a single tree, with its leaves intricately carved to seem as if they were blowing in a slight breeze. Suddenly, the answer presented itself to her. _No. No, it couldn't be. Could it? I did wonder, a little, in those days..._ "Merlin? Is this...?"

Merlin cut her off. "Doesn't matter now. Suppose it didn't really matter then, either. I did think, sometimes- but, as I said, doesn't matter." He quickly flipped the clasp again.

"Oh, Merlin. But, it's a different life, now. Didn't you say- maybe there's a different destiny? For us all?" Gwen persisted.

"Gwen. Leave it. Please." Merlin rarely commanded anything, let alone to his queen, but when he did, Gwen knew, he meant it. She let the subject drop (privately resolving to work on it herself at a later time) and asked a new question.

"So...have you any idea _how _this happened? I mean, why I'm awake when Arthur isn't? He isn't, is he?" she asked, suddenly panicking again. Merlin smiled.

"No, he's not. Haven't even found him yet. You're the first one I found. Or maybe you found me. Anyways," he continued thoughtfully, "I think it's because of what I said a few minutes ago. When I crowned you."

"Yeah, what _did _you say, anyways?" Gwen asked, slipping back and forth between her formal queenly demeanor and the more casual language of her modern self. To her surprise, Merlin laughed.

"I said, 'By the sacred laws of the land, and as the proxy of the great King Arthur, I crown you Guinevere, Queen of Camelot'," he explained. "I suppose, saying it in the language of magic somehow combined with the previous magic to break through and bring your memories back. That's the only explanation that makes sense."

"So, the others? They won't be awake now too?" Merlin shook his head.

"No, they're all still linked to Arthur. You're a special case- you were special and a ruler in your own right, but I don't think there'd be something powerful enough, like this fake coronation, to wake anyone else."

"Then what now?" Gwen asked, looking at Merlin worriedly. "What do we do? Now that I remember and everything?" Merlin contemplated for a minute, then took her hand in his.

"I suppose, now we have a bit of a search ahead of us." At Gwen's questioning glance, he grinned. "Time to find your dollophead of a husband."

_**Long live the Queen! Gwen's awake and fully aware. Are you glad Merlin doesn't have to be alone anymore? Sorry this chapter is a bit longer than usual, but I had a lot to get into it, and the length kind of got away from me. Now we can move towards the romance as Merlin and Gwen search for Arthur and the knights. Plus, a new question: what is with that silver clasp? Any theories? If so, please tell me! And as always, please read and review- know that every review makes me smile!** __**This chapter's particular thanks go to**_ **Pea**_** and **_**AHarryPotterGleeMerlinFanGir l** **_for their frequent reviews :) See you next chapter!_**


	7. One Month Later

_One month later_

Merlin rolled over, groaning, as a sudden burst of sunlight roused him from his half-awake, half-asleep state. Sitting up on the couch where he had been sleeping, he rubbed his eyes and looked for the source of the light. Spotting it, he called out in frustration to the girl who had opened the blinds moments earlier.

"Oi! 'm awake, 'm awake. Didna have to do that," he yelled half-heartedly, still regaining full consciousness. Gwen shrugged apologetically.

"Sorry, just wanted to make sure. We've got that presentation for the internship today- thought you'd want time to get ready. And perhaps eat a proper breakfast for once?" she explained, slightly scolding as if dealing with a little brother. With a defeated grin, Merlin swung his legs off the couch, grabbed his bag and his clothes for the day from where they hung in the doorway, and headed to the bathroom to shower and dress. As he passed Gwen, with her hair still in a ponytail since she hadn't finished putting it up yet, he affectionately yanked the long dark curls and dodged her slap as he continued down the hall.

Ever since that day a month ago, Merlin and Gwen had been working together on everything. After a long talk, they decided that, not knowing how long it would take to find Arthur and the others, they ought to stay in school and continue to build lives for themselves, just as a practical matter. Besides, neither of them really relished the thought of giving up the studies they so enjoyed. Still, some things had changed. Gwen had regained much of her regal demeanor, though she generally avoided slipping into anachronistic mannerisms or speech patterns except when alone with Merlin. In fact, Merlin thought, she had done quite well with blending the past twenty-some years of her modern life with her newly remembered life as Queen. But now that she was fully the friend and queen he had first known, he had developed an even more protective streak when it came to her. And, if she was honest, the reverse was true too. As a result, the two often spent the night at each other's flats. Merlin had used a few handy little spells to enlarge the couches in each flat to become comfortable beds, and then to shrink them again in the mornings.

They had been lucky in their "normal" lives. After teaming up and pooling their resources- Merlin's expertise on history and politics in general with Gwen's knowledge of feminism and rulers- they had begun some interesting research designed to set out a framework for women in positions of political power, evolving over history. Today, in fact, they had a meeting with a panel who was interested in their research as applied to the upcoming elections. Unfortunately, that luck had not extended to their other lives- that is, their continued search for their friends and family. They had reasoned that, just as Gwen had been drawn to the area that once was Camelot, it was likely the others would too. So their best bet, since they hadn't figured out a way to track down any of the others, was to stay put, keep an eye out, and rely on the bonds of magic connecting them to draw the others together as they had been drawn. Merlin emerged from the bathroom, now dressed in dress pants, a dark blue button-down shirt, and with an untied red tie hanging around his neck. As soon as he did, Gwen dashed in behind him to finish her own preparations.

Casually munching on some toast, Merlin glanced briefly at the day's newspaper. He and Gwen had taken to reading the daily paper, cover to cover, in hopes of finding some clue that might lead them to Arthur. _Even in this life, I doubt he could resist drawing attention to himself,_ Merlin thought, not without affection. He had barely had the time to skim the headlines when Gwen yelled at him from behind the door.

"Merlin! You about ready to go? I'll be out in just a minute- we don't want to be late!" she shouted, her voice muffled slightly in the way Merlin had learned meant she had bobby pins in her mouth as she worked on getting her hair into a bun. Hastily, he finished his breakfast.

"Yeah, just about!" he called back, turning to face the small mirror by the door as he fiddled with his tie. As the silky material repeatedly slipped out of the knot, he grew more and more frustrated. Cursing internally, the warlock finally gave up. _Dammit, I'm done with this. _His eyes flashed gold and the tie quickly knotted itself crisply around his neck. Reaching up to adjust it, Merlin couldn't hold back a slight grin.

"Well, well. Would you look at this," Gwen's voice floated from behind him, an amused lilt to her words. Merlin's grin slid from his face as he turned to face her. Seeing the smirk on her face, he knew he was in for it. "The most powerful warlock in all of history, and you can't even handle a tie," she teased, straightening the red material as Merlin faintly blushed.

"All right then. If Your Majesty is done fussing over your hair"-she punched him on the arm- "I think we're ready to go."

* * *

The meeting went well. Incredibly well, in fact. So well that, after their presentation, the chairman of the panel had stood up, shared brief looks with his colleagues, and then offered Merlin and Gwen the research work on the spot. Thrilled, the two hadn't known what to say, until Gwen, pulling herself into a queenly demeanor, graciously thanked them for the opportunity, giving Merlin time to gather himself to express his own thanks. They had next been ushered into another room where various documents were pushed at them. With a little magical assistance, Merlin was able to read them all sufficiently to be certain they weren't signing away their research or anything else important, signaled Gwen it was all right, and the pair signed off. Finally, they had each been handed an enormous bunch of files, with the explanation that these files had been compiled on all the potential candidates who might run for Parliament in the upcoming elections, possible new members of the government in both houses. They were asked to review the files and see how they fit into the theories they had presented from a scholarly perspective.

So that's where Merlin and Gwen sat one Friday night, sifting through stacks of files on all the men and women who were considered potential candidates and eating takeaway from their favorite Chinese restaurant.

"Look at this one," Gwen said, finishing a piece of orange chicken and reaching with her fork for another, "she was a protest leader as a student in the '80s, then went off, married some rich guy. His affair went public, she kicked his sorry ass to the curb, and now she could be part of running the country." She shook her head admiringly. "Good for her, I say!"

Merlin playfully knocked her fork out of the way as he speared a piece of chicken on his own fork. Chewing thoughtfully, he swallowed before turning the pages and opening up the next file. After reading so many, he had begun to cheat a little, just scanning the basic info, not really even looking at the name. Young male, well-educated, wealthy political family... A flash of gold caught his eye as he flipped past the photo of the potential candidate. _Wait..._ Something tugged at Merlin and he froze. _No. It can't be. _He took a deep breath to steady himself and closed his eyes briefly. Then, steeling himself for either result, he firmly turned the page back to the photo of the young man. _  
_

All this time, Gwen had been oblivious, alternately eating and making a running commentary on her portion of the files. But noticing Merlin's lack of response, she finally looked up to see him sitting there, focused absolutely on what was sitting in front of him to the exclusion of all else.

"Merlin? Merlin, what is it? What did you find?" she asked. When he raised his eyes to hers, Gwen felt a sudden surge of strange emotion, as if something important was about to happen. Wordlessly, Merlin pushed the files across the table to his friend. As he did so, he rested his hand on hers, just for a moment, in a gesture she could only interpret as reassuring. Gwen looked down at the papers in front of her and her heart nearly stopped.

_Blond hair, a little floppy and gleaming. A slight slouch in his posture, yet still standing tall and strong. And clear blue eyes with the simultaneously thoughtful and mischievous look she'd know anywhere. Oh, God._

_Arthur._

**_There we go! Not here in person yet, but our duo has found Arthur; only a matter of time until they actually meet, right? Of course he's a politician- he needed to be someone who could reasonably achieve a position of power in the modern world. A few more notes: for those of you who had theories on the cloak clasp from the last couple chapters, I have this to say: remember where the Druids live. And for those with concerns about the other knights, specifically Lancelot, don't worry, I have a plan that ties in a bit of the original legend that the series never touched upon. Thanks to every single one of my reviewers! As always, I would love to hear what you think. Do you think you guys could get me to 20 reviews- I'm at 16 now? Thanks, and enjoy!_**

**_~C_**


	8. At the Coffee Shop

"I still can't believe it. And I can't believe we're doing this," Gwen said nervously to Merlin. Two days after the evening when they found Arthur's biography in their stack of files, the two friends stood outside a coffee shop, nervously glancing around and trying very hard to keep their minds off of what they were there to do. "Merlin, I don't think we have thought this through. I'm not quite sure if I can do this. How am I supposed to look my husband in the eye, how am I supposed to even look at him again, when he knows me not?" Nervously fiddling with the edges of her hair, Gwen's speech slipped back into the patterns she had used long ago, as it seemed to do more and more frequently when she was nervous or worried. "Should we have started smaller? Looked for one of the others first?" Merlin shook his head. Despite his own nerves, he laid a comforting hand on Gwen's arm and tried to reassure her.

"No. Definitely not. It's Arthur we have to wake. And, let's be honest- isn't it Arthur we want to see?" Grudgingly, Gwen nodded. Seeing the worry still in her eyes, Merlin tried to distract her. "Can you imagine some of them in government, though?" Gwen grinned, considering the possibility of some of their old friends actually governing, not just supporting those who did. Upon discovering Arthur's new life, Gwen had had the idea that perhaps some of the others- Leon, perhaps- might also be pursuing careers in public service. Neither of them had expected to find first one knight, then another in their files. At the end of the evening, they had located every man who had sat around the first Round Table that day in the ancient citadel. Leon was a hereditary peer whose father had died very young, so he was about to start his second term in the House of Lords. To Gwen's surprise- but not Merlin's- Gwaine also had a title and was about to join Leon in the upper chamber. He had been a bit harder to find; Gwaine was hardly an unobtrusive modern name, but the two were vastly amused to find him under the utterly ordinary name of George Green. Arthur, though lacking a technical title, was from a wealthy and powerful political family, which surprised neither Merlin nor Gwen. The erstwhile Queen was delighted, however, to see her brother alongside Percival (now simply Percy) as frontrunners for the House of Commons. And-

"Lancelot," Gwen had whispered, a storm of emotions crossing her face when Merlin discovered his oldest friend among the papers. "Oh, God, Merlin. The last time I saw him... the last time he was..." Merlin moved quickly to relieve his friend's distress.

"Gwen. Gwen, look at me. That man, that person who...who was there, who did all that? That wasn't Lancelot." Gwen stopped abruptly.

"What? No, it was him, I know it. How could it not have been?" she queried. A dark look passed over Merlin's face.

"Morgana. She used magic to bring him back after he had died closing the veil. But that's dark magic, Gwen, terribly dark. What she brought back was a shade who looked and sounded like Lancelot, but had none of his soul or memories and simply did her bidding. All she had to do was teach him about your shared history and give him the means to come between you and Arthur." Gwen still looked confused.

"But even if that's true, I still...I..." Merlin understood her concern.

"Not on your own, you didn't. Lan- the shade, he gave you something, didn't he?" Gwen nodded, recalling a strangely heavy bracelet. "Enchanted. Morgana wouldn't have been able to create a spell to actually end you and Arthur's love- nothing was that strong- but she could make it so that you were incredibly susceptible to suggestion. The tiniest play from the shade that wore Lancelot's face, and...well, you know the rest," Merlin finished awkwardly. Gwen thought for a moment, absorbing this new information. _So then neither of us truly erred. It is good, that it was not him- he deserved a better end, a nobler one. But if only I'd felt something wrong! I should have known something wasn't right. It wasn't my fault, but it was still me that hurt Arthur. But Morgana was powerful- too powerful for anyone. _As Gwen finished this train of thought, she felt a guilty weight of centuries past lift from her heart. She threw her arms around Merlin.

"Thank you, Merlin! Truly, you've given me a great gift. I no longer have to wonder why I did what I did, nor fear that some part of me really was untrue and disloyal. Thank you- so very much!" she cried, finally releasing a grinning Merlin. "Now then. Muffins while we wait?" With a smile, Merlin agreed.

* * *

"Gwen." Merlin tried to get Gwen's attention as he stared over her shoulder at the just-opened door to the café. When she didn't respond he tried again. "Gwen, look. _Guinevere!_" he hissed. Merlin's use of her full name broke Gwen out of her reverie, and she looked up just as a young man, golden-haired, tall, and incredibly handsome walked in. Whatever she had expected to feel, this was far more. _The first time she'd ever seen him, when they were both barely teenagers, he'd walked a bit like that. She'd almost forgotten how tall he was- he always had to lean down to kiss her- like he had that first time, in her house. But she'd worn heeled shoes to her coronation- they were on level ground._ She was so absorbed in her emotions that she almost failed to notice the man who followed him in- a bit shorter and stockier, with slightly curly light brown hair. _Leon._ Merlin was staring too, then nudged Gwen.

"All right, milady. That's our cue," he whispered. Tearing her gaze away from her husband that wasn't quite her husband, Gwen nodded. The two friends got up and slipped into line behind Arthur and Leon, who were waiting for their coffees. As the men were about to turn, Merlin whispered to Gwen, "Sorry about this," before his eyes briefly flashed gold just as Arthur turned around, causing his iced latte to spill on Gwen.

"Hey! Watch where-" Merlin stifled a laugh as Arthur began to exclaim in the imperious, annoyed tone he knew so well, since it had so often been directed at him. Then Arthur saw who he had spilled on, and his face changed instantly. "I- I'm sorry. So sorry. Here, uh..." Arthur fumbled around to find some napkins to hand to her_, _as she smiled slightly. _As adorably awkward as when we first began our relationship. Prince of the realm, trained to be a warrior and diplomat, and yet stumbling over his words to a servant. I remember that day Merlin brought me to the woods for a secret picnic, and we caught him fixing his hair. He's so vulnerable like this- I wonder if he knew how much I loved- no, love- that side of him. _"Sorry," Arthur repeated lamely. He glanced around awkwardly. "I, uh, I'll pay for that to be cleaned," he gestured vaguely at her blouse, then finally meeting her eyes. Seeing a familiar spark of kindness and honesty in the clear blue eyes she knew so well, Gwen finally was able to smile fully and speak.

"Don't worry about it. My roommate is pretty handy with laundry- like some clothing wizard, he is!" she joked. Merlin gritted his teeth but grudgingly admired her little joke. Arthur didn't look convinced.

"Are you sure?" Gwen nodded. "I am sorry...?" he trailed off questioningly.

"Gwen. I'm Gwen," she said, trying to keep her hand from shaking as she held it out. Arthur took it.

"Nice to meet you, Gwen. I'm Arthur," he replied. Their hands stayed clasped for a moment longer than they should, as Arthur felt the slightest stir within him. _She's beautiful. But not just that...why do I feel comfortable when we've just met, and all I've done is spill my coffee on her?_ Gathering himself, he gestured to the man who stood a tactful distance behind him. "This is my friend, Leon." Leon stepped forward and shook Gwen's hand with a friendly smile. In turn, Gwen turned to Merlin, who instantly stepped to her side, his own heart pounding now as he faced his best friend.

"And this is...Rhys, my best friend and roommate," she said. Leon grasped his hand briefly, then Arthur.

"Oh, so you're the wizard, are you?" Arthur shared a smirk with Gwen, but Merlin couldn't help cringing slightly at his words. _If only you knew. _But he gathered himself, plastered on the same mild smile he had always used to placate his king, and managed a "Yep, suppose so." Leon leaned forward._  
_

"I'm so sorry, but, Arthur, we really do have to get going- we're already late," he said apologetically. Arthur rolled his eyes theatrically.

"Oh, all right. Rhys, Gwen, nice meeting you. And, again, sorry about the coffee," he said, walking towards the door. With clang of the little bell, he was gone. Gwen looked towards Merlin.

"He's just...gone. Just like that? I thought, for a second there..." Merlin reached to hug her, words of reassurance on his lips, how they would just come back again and hopefully meet him again. But the words died on his lips as the bell rang again and Arthur dashed back in, his blond hair messy from his haste.

"Gwen. Look, I know this sounds insane- after all, we just met. But I feel like... I feel sort of..." he paused, wanting to choose his words carefully and be honest with this beautiful, sweet woman. "I guess I sort of feel like I know you, even though I don't- but I'd like to." Gwen looked up in surprise, her heart suddenly racing like it had all those years ago when he had first expressed feelings for her. "Could I take you to dinner? Tomorrow night, maybe?" Almost unable to speak, Gwen grabbed a pen from the counter and scribbled her number and address on the back of a flyer.

"Pick me up at seven?" she managed, holding the paper out to him. He took it, looked down, and suddenly the boyish grin she loved spread over his face.

"Alright. See you at seven...Gwen."

_**Surprise, everyone: I had some spare time, so here's a new chapter already! I doubt I'll pull the next chapter together this quickly, but I wanted to give you all some lovely Arwen as soon as possible. All together: Aww! Arwen have a date! How will that go, especially considering one of them knows everything and the other doesn't? Is Arthur waking up slowly, or is his awakening still a little ways off? Thanks to all my reviewers, new and old, as always, but especially **_**AHarryPotterMerlinGleeFanGir l, Pea, _and_ agana of the night.,_ who give me near-constant feedback. You all not only got me to my 20 reviews last chapter, but 2 over my goal! So here's my thank-you gift: the first two people who review THIS chapter may ask me any one question about this story you like, and I will PM you with the answer, even if it involves significant spoilers! Thanks again for reading, and see you next chapter!_**

**_~C_**


	9. The Once and Future Queen

"Okay, how does this look?" Gwen asked, emerging from her room for the third time in yet another outfit. Merlin lounged on the couch, his feet up and a mildly amused expression on his face as he looked up from the essay he was writing on his laptop. Gwen had been trying on clothes for a while now; this particular outfit consisted of a black skirt and sparkly top, paired with black heels. Her hair, already styled, fell in loose waves down her back, held partly back with a silvery clip.

"Yeah, that looks good. But seriously, Gwen, I highly doubt Arthur's going to care what you wear. He thinks you're beautiful, no matter what," Merlin pointed out. Gwen threw up her hands in exasperation.

"No, _my husband _thinks I'm beautiful. This is not my husband- not yet, anyways. He doesn't have to think anything. I'm just the weird girl he spilled coffee on- thanks for that, by the way." Gwen's voice climbed, gaining a slightly angry edge as she spoke. Sensing something else was wrong, Merlin set his laptop down, moved his feet out of the way, and patted the cushion next to him.

"Gwen. Want to tell me what's really the matter?" he asked gently as she sat beside him. Gwen looked at him, surprising him with the anguish in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Merlin. Truly- I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just... it's hard. It's so hard to look him in the eyes and know that he doesn't know me, even though I love him so very much. How did you bear it, with me?" she asked, holding back her sniffling so as not to ruin her makeup. Merlin squeezed her should in a comforting gesture.

"It's not easy, I know. What got me through it all was just knowing you were there, that I could talk to you again, laugh with you, everything. That somewhere deep in your unconscious soul, the queen I loved to serve was there, and that someday, she'd wake up. It was hope, and just enjoying the new relationship that we _could _have," he explained.

"But what if he doesn't like me?" Gwen asked plaintively. "What if whatever it was that made him love me is gone, forgotten, and he just doesn't want to be around me?" As Merlin opened his mouth to attempt a reassuring answer, the buzzer rang. Merlin grinned.

"Would a man who wasn't interested show up exactly on time for a first date?" Gwen smiled, quickly tossing her hair back as she stood up. "And besides," he added with a smirk, "even Arthur isn't enough of a dollophead to fall out of love with you, reincarnation or not." Gwen's smile got even bigger, and she mouthed, "Thank you," to Merlin as she hurried to answer the door, pausing for a brief moment. _Deep breath, Guinevere, _she coached herself. Drawing herself up into the tall, regal posture of a queen, she opened the door to see Arthur standing there, neatly dressed and looking slightly nervous.

"Hi," he said, silently cursing his unoriginality. "Uh- these are for you." He held out a bouquet of flowers to her with a small smile. As she took them, she was reminded of the first time he brought her flowers after he was king. _Just a handful of purple flowers- he said he got them off the road, and one of them flopped over as he gave them to me. _At the memory, she had to quickly turn her back to hide her smile.

"They're lovely, Arthur, thank you." She laid the flowers on a table. "Let me just go get my purse, then we can go." Casting a quick but meaningful look at Merlin, she dashed to her room for a minute, leaving the two men alone.

"Good to see you again, Rhys. So, uh, what's that you're working on?" Arthur asked, gesturing at the stack of papers by Merlin's laptop.

"Oh, ah, just some research we were going over earlier. Political science doctorate work, just trying to fit it into a framework we developed," Merlin explained, making a stab at conversation. To his surprise, Arthur's blue eyes actually lit up briefly.

"Wait- are you two developing a new methodology? That's...that's amazing!" Merlin was shocked as Arthur continued to speak quite intelligently. _Huh. Maybe there's more of the King in him than I thought. _Then the familiar mask of carelessness settled over the blond man's face. "So you're Gwen's roommate, then?" Arthur asked.

"Well, sort of. I mean, we have our own places, but we're research partners, so more often than not we end up staying over at each other's place," Merlin explained. Arthur cast a glance around the small but cozy flat.

"Hm. Seems a bit small for two people," the wealthy young man commented, lazily letting his gaze run over the room. Merlin's jaw tightened slightly as he warred with whether to be insulted or amused. _Ah, there's the old Arthur. I'd almost forgotten what an arrogant prat he used to be, _Merlin thought dryly. Just then, Gwen emerged, holding her purse and smiling almost shyly. Arthur's head snapped up, and the look in his eyes was exactly the way the young prince had once looked at the beautiful servant girl he couldn't admit his feelings for. _That's more like it. Gwen helped bring him down a few pegs before- she can probably do it again. _

* * *

"This restaurant is amazing, Arthur. I've been wanting to try it for ages, but couldn't ever get a reservation!" Gwen exclaimed over their dinner at a stylish, exclusive restaurant. So far, the conversation had been mixed: every now and again, there seemed to be a few moments of genuine connection, but then he would say something gratingly arrogant or talk down to the waitstaff or something and she would suddenly have to remind herself that her Arthur had started out an entitled, careless man of privilege too. This appeared to be one of the latter moments, as Arthur looked around casually.

"Yeah, well, you'd be amazed what the right name can do for you," he tossed out. "Might be a right pain sometimes, but it has its uses." That was the last straw for Gwen. Tired of sitting opposite a man who wore her husband's face but displayed few of his better qualities, she set her fork down fiercely and looked him in the eye, glaring.

"And I'm supposed to be impressed, am I?" she asked coldly, glowering with the righteous anger of the servant girl who had called out Arthur and with the full regal fury of a queen. Arthur was taken aback by her sudden anger. "Have you any idea how selfish and arrogant you can be? You behave like a spoiled rich boy and expect everyone to be impressed. Would it kill you to be polite, to say please, to ask someone about themselves?" she continued, her voice not quite rising to a level that would attract attention but with icy impatience and anger, just as she had once given him a piece of her mind before they were even involved. Although no less upset, Gwen was suddenly struck with the thought that perhaps this Arthur would be less receptive to criticism than he had been in Camelot. _Great. Did I just ruin any chance I had of spending time with Arthur again? But if he's like this..._ Needing a moment to herself, Gwen stood up to excuse herself to the ladies' room.

As the gentle young woman across from him suddenly gave him the tongue lashing of his life, something sparked inside of Arthur. _She's right. Why does this sound so familiar? No one's ever spoken to me like that before. Wait- is she getting up to leave? I can't let her leave. Say something, you idiot! _He reached out and grabbed her hand, earning a slight hitch in her breath as she was stopped.

"Gwen. _Gwen. _You're right. I've been acting- well, appallingly. There's no excuse- I shouldn't... I'm sorry," Arthur said in a much gentler tone, not quite sure where the words were coming from but knowing they were true. "Please. Won't you stay, finish dinner? After putting up with me all night, the least I can do is order you the chocolate creme bruleè," he dared a slight joke, and was rewarded by a genuine smile. _She's even more beautiful when she smiles._

Gwen was startled to hear vaguely familiar words coming from the man sitting opposite her, but somewhat comforted that the Arthur she had known was perhaps not so far away after all. She smiled, and, as a particularly clear memory presented itself, dared to finish the conversation as she had once before.

"All right. I didn't mean to make you feel bad," she said, smoothing her skirt as she sat back down.

"Oh, really?" Arthur asked, a little playful.

"Well, maybe a little," she replied in kind. They both laughed, and somehow, both of them felt as if a great weight had lifted. Instinctively, they both leaned a little further into the table, relaxing into a companionable and comfortable posture. As she took a sip of water, Arthur regarded her with admiration. _How is it that this girl I've only met once has such an effect on me? And why can I be myself around her like I can't with others? Regardless, she's right. And I do want to know more about her._

"So, Gwen- tell me about your research."

* * *

"Thank you for a wonderful evening. I had a good time," Gwen said, standing in front of her building. Arthur raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Really?" he asked, smirking just a little bit.

"Well, it didn't start out that way. But by the end- definitely a good first date," she amended with a laugh.

"First? So...does that mean there's a possibility of a second?" Arthur asked, heart in his throat.

"You know," an even more emotional Gwen managed to say, "I think it does." She had to hold back her tears when her favorite smile, genuine and boyishly delighted, spread over Arthur's handsome face.

"Well then. I'll call you tomorrow?" She nodded. "All right." Arthur paused for a moment as the traffic light changed and cars began to whiz by. Then, just as a car turned a corner, putting them in the full glare of its headlights, he leaned down and kissed her with a gentle intensity, which she returned in kind. For a moment, Arthur felt something strange tickling the back of his mind. _Sunrise, a cottage, a soft piece of cloth like a token... _Shaking his head slightly, he broke the kiss slowly. "I must go. Good night, Gwen," he said, gently tucking back a stray curl from her face before getting into his car.

"Good night, Arthur," she replied. As he drove away, she touched her lips slightly, the memory that hadn't quite surfaced in his mind flooding hers in its entirety, without a detail missing. As he turned the corner and vanished from sight, Gwen burst into a giddy grin and spun on the spot, before heading back inside to share with her best friend all about her thoroughly wonderful night.

_**Lots and lots of Arwen- I hope I recaptured the earlier days of our favorite couple in a satisfactory way. The dialogue in the restaurant is an echo of when Gwen tells Arthur off in episode 2x02 "The Once and Future Queen," and of course, their kiss at the end was a callback to the glorious sunlit first kiss in that same episode. Congrats to **_**faithlessducks _and _Agana of the night_ for winning the review/question contest last chapter- hope I answered adequately :) To all my other reviewers, followers, and readers, thank you again so much for your time and kindness- it is much appreciated. More Arwen goodness ahead! Please review if you feel so inclined!_**

**_~C_**


	10. The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship

A few weeks passed, and Gwen wasn't sure who was more delighted that she and Arthur were seeing each other a few times a week: her or Merlin. As much as she missed her husband, she was genuinely enjoying the opportunity for them to fall in love all over again. With each day that passed, she was reminded more and more of the little things that had made her fall for him so long ago. _His kindness to strangers, despite occasional bursts of insensitivity. The way he would surprise her with little romantic things, like her favorite flowers or pulling her down a corridor or into a secluded spot to kiss her. And the thoughtful intelligence he often concealed behind his casual demeanor. _Having decided to run officially, he turned to her for support, even though, as far as he was aware, they had only just started seeing each other. After the disastrous start to their first date, he had done his best to avoid emphasizing his wealth and privilege, opting instead to make a name for himself on his own. Tonight, however, was an exception. His family had been offered tickets to a West End opening night, and since he was the only one who could go, he was taking Gwen to the opening night gala.

Which was why, when Arthur rang the buzzer to Gwen's flat that evening, looking very dashing in a black-tie suit, it wasn't Gwen who answered, but Merlin.

"Hey, Arthur. Come on in- Gwen's still getting ready," Merlin greeted him, opening the door and trying very hard not to lapse into his old, more formal habits instead of the casual way he addressed the man now. With a nod, Arthur entered the flat as Merlin closed the door behind him. Although the two young men had chatted a bit in the past few weeks, they had never really had a prolonged or meaningful conversation. Merlin flopped back on the couch, waiting for the two to leave before he left to take a walk through the city that night, then gestured at the cushion next to him as Arthur stood there awkwardly. "Go on, sit down. Might be a few 'til she's ready," he added. After a moment's pause, Arthur shrugged and sank into the couch next to the other man. Turning to glance at his king, who appeared lost in thought, Merlin sensed a familiar expression of concern on his old friend's face.

"Arthur? Not that it's really my business, but- something on your mind? You look a bit distracted," Merlin asked tentatively, praying that enough of King Arthur remained to let him in.

"Just...election stuff. Nothing really," he said, lying very unconvincingly. Merlin shook his head.

"Really? That's the best you can do?" Arthur glared at him in a most familiar manner, causing Merlin to stifle a laugh. "No, seriously, what's up?" Arthur sighed, running his hand through his hair, then turned his head to look at Merlin.

"I'm just...I dunno, sometimes all this-" he waved a hand vaguely- "just kind of closes in on me. Gets to be a lot, you know?"

Merlin chuckled. "Oh yeah. I know."

Seemingly encouraged, Arthur continued, shifting his whole body so he could face Merlin directly, relaxing a bit. "Look, I was brought up for this, for politics, okay? You know who my family is- there was never any other option for me. I mean," he paused, searching for words, "I think I would've ended up here anyways- I would've chose it on my own, I like the idea of... I dunno, making a difference. But the way things are now, not to mention being...well, my father's son- I don't know anymore." Arthur trailed off thoughtfully, then looked abruptly at Merlin, as if coming out of a trance. "I'm sorry, Rhys, I don't mean to burden you with all this. You probably just think I'm some spoiled rich boy whining about how privileged he is. Gwen's always telling me not to do that," he apologized. Seeing Arthur about to retreat behind his usual facade, Merlin quickly spoke.

"Arthur, it's alright. I don't mind, really. I understand. You feel-" he cast about for the right words- "you feel that you have a destiny that you had no say in. You don't really mind it, but it puts pressure on you nonetheless. You wish things were different but you don't know how to make them so. And sometimes it just overwhelms you, so much you think you can hardly bear it." Arthur stared at him in shock.

"That sounded almost wise, Rhys," he commented dryly to cover for himself. Merlin grinned, remembering when Arthur had given the same backhanded compliment in ages gone by. "Alright, then, what do you think, if you're so smart?" For once, Merlin wasn't out of his depth- he recognized the same insecurities the young prince of Camelot had revealed to him, and sought to reassure him similarly.

"I think...I think you need to have a few people who you can trust and ask for advice. But you can't just play the game if you want to make things better. You have to find others who can see the same vision you can, and work together to bring about a better time." Daring a gesture of comfort, Merlin reached out to put a hand on Arthur's shoulder as he looked firmly into his best friend's eyes. "You may be your father's son, Arthur, but you are your own man. Perhaps," the right words presented themselves to him in a crystal-clear memory, "perhaps we're heading for a new time."

Arthur was astonished and yet somehow comforted by the dark-haired man's words. _He understands, he really does. Everything he's said, about destiny and change- it all makes perfect sense, it sounds...right. Why don't I have friends like him? Are we friends? _He reached up to clap Merlin's shoulder gratefully in return, saying, "Thank you, Rhys. You've no idea how much that helps. You're..." he stumbled, then went on, "You're a good friend."

Merlin's heart soared when Arthur called him his friend. He could't help it- he had missed his best friend so very much, those words meant a great deal to him. Just then, Gwen finally emerged, looking red-carpet worthy in a sleek, elegant burgundy evening gown, her hair piled elegantly atop her head, and the amethyst necklace Merlin had insisted she keep, since it technically was hers anyways. Arthur got up, his face lighting up as he looked at Gwen. As he turned to leave, Arthur called back to Merlin, speaking words without knowing where they came from.

"Who knows what the future will bring."

* * *

"No, but that was the best part!" Gwen insisted, laughing as she and Arthur merrily argued the merits of the show they had just come from. As they took a turn down a strange road, Gwen looked up at Arthur questioningly and was rewarded with her favorite smile.

"Come on, just trust me," Arthur pleaded playfully. Upon seeing her faux-stern expression, he grinned and leaned down. "It's," he whispered in one ear, "a," in the other ear, "a surprise." Gwen shivered slightly in pleasure that quickly spiked up again as Arthur ended his sentence by pulling her into a deep kiss. _All these years, you wouldn't think he'd still have this effect on me, _Gwen thought, unaware that a similar thought (minus the years of knowledge, of course) was making its way through Arthur's mind at the same time. Taking her hand, he laced their fingers securely together as they entered a park.

"This is one of my favorite places at night," he explained as they strolled. "It's technically always open, but, I don't know, somehow I think it's all more beautiful at night." Indeed, Gwen was inclined to agree, as the handful of lights combined with the moonlight produced an enchanting glow. "Gwen? D'you really think I can do this? The politics, Parliament, all that?" he asked.

Gwen looked up at him, surprised. "Of course I do, Arthur. But, why do you ask? I'm just a girl you've only known a little while."

"And yet it is your opinion I most value," he replied, somehow knowing as he said them that the words were true. Reminded of the last time he said that, Gwen offered up her own familiar reassurance.

"Well then. I have faith in you, Arthur." He was startled, as a strange feeling of deja vu came over him. Changing the subject, Gwen looked around. "It _is _beautiful, Arthur. I'm so glad you shared this with me," Gwen murmured, squeezing his hand tightly. They were both so absorbed in each other and in contemplating the beautiful night that neither heard the slight rustle in the trees a short distance away.

* * *

Merlin was strolling through the city, absorbing all the knowledge he could. In order to be well prepared and always on alert, he had long ago begun taking long walks throughout every part of the places he lived. This served a dual purpose: time alone to think and sometimes practice a little magic unobtrusively, and gathering information that he hoped could help him and his friends someday when the time came. As a result, his knowledge of parks, streets, and shortcuts was second to none. Which is why, when he heard a sudden gunshot, his head whipped up and he ran without a second thought through the nearby park and toward the source of that sound.

When he reached the scene, Merlin's heart nearly stopped. In the middle of the grassy park, just a short ways from a cluster of trees, a pair of figures were on the ground. The smaller form of a young woman, her hair escaping into loose curls, bent over the slowly moving body of a man who lay on the ground, his blond hair glinting in the moonlight. Merlin didn't know he could run that fast, as he dashed to their side.

"Go get help. Take my phone, get where there's reception, call emergency, find someone!" Merlin cried to the woman, who was sobbing and shaking.

"Is he- will he be alright? Can't you help him?" she asked, drawing herself up to obey.

"I'm going to try. Please, milady, this is the best way you can help him right now. Just be careful, here," his eyes flashed gold as he touched her necklace, which glowed before returning to normal. "That should protect you in case the shooter is still out there." With a nod and a pleading look, she took off. Merlin looked again at the wounded man before him, his heart racing and genuine terror striking him for the first time in centuries as he gathered the man into his arms, looking briefly into the dazed blue depths of his eyes, and prepared to make some attempts at healing.

_Please, God, no. Not Arthur. Not again. _He didn't even realize that he'd said it aloud.

**_Wow, I'm evil, aren't I, to end on a cliffhanger like that? Anyone see that coming? Arthur's question to Gwen is a deleted scene from early season 4, while her reassurance comes from 1x10. Also, the conversation Merlin and Arthur have was a callback to the "you may become king" conversation at the end of 3x13; I hope I did a good job portraying an early version of their friendship. I need a disclaimer now: the next few "memories" may not agree perfectly with canon, and if it doesn't, let me know. I am a US viewer and have only seen up through 5x08 as of this posting. However, I know quite well how the legend ends, I doubt they would introduce Mordred again if he wasn't going to fulfill the prophecy, so I guessed the general gist of the ending. On a more specific note, I can't imagine this version of Merlin wouldn't be there for Arthur in his final moments; plus, an exclusively Merlin blog I follow had a "three words to make me cry" askbox meme, and someone gave them a certain line which I intend to use next chapter (you'll know it when you see it) that confirms my suspicions. So a lot of sophisticated guesswork, but I think it's accurate. Special thanks to _starglen _for delightfully detailed reviews lately. Thanks for reading, and see you next chapter! ~C_**


	11. Just Hold Me

Panicked and terrified, Merlin bent down to examine Arthur's wound. The blond man wasn't really focused on him, so he had a moment to work a quick spell to help him ascertain the damage. As the tendrils of magic worked their way through Arthur's upper body, Merlin was relieved, ever so slightly, to find that the bullet had miraculously missed any vital organs or arteries. But there were still problems, serious ones. The bullet hadn't passed through Arthur's body, but was still lodged in there, and seemed to be moving very slowly towards Arthur's heart. And to make matters worse, the lack of internal injuries did not mean a lack of bleeding, which Merlin was desperately working to stop. As he reached out his hand towards the wounded area, Merlin was startled when Arthur grabbed his wrist.

"Rhys. Come on, tell me. How bad is it? It's bad, isn't it? I can... I can feel it..." Arthur's grip slackened slightly as he took a labored breath.

"It's...well, it's not good, no. But you're gonna be fine. Arthur, you hear me? I won't let you die!" Merlin replied fiercely, yanking off his scarf to try to staunch the slow red flow of his king's blood. As Arthur's eyes drifted shut, then open again, he realized that the time it might take Gwen to get help might be a little too much time. There was only one thing to do. Leaning down, Merlin spoke quickly and urgently as he pushed Arthur's shirt and jacket out of the way so the bullet wound was open to him.

"Alright, Arthur, what's going to happen now is going to be very strange. You're going to have questions and I promise I will explain everything. But for now, I just need you to trust me. Can you do that?" When Arthur didn't respond, he raised his voice and gripped Arthur's shoulder. "_Arthur! _Can you trust me?" Arthur nodded wordlessly, his face growing paler but his eyes a tiny bit clearer as he regarded the other man with something like curiosity.

Gathering his strength, Merlin extended his hand over the wound. He whispered an inaudible spell meant to remove the bullet from Arthur's body, too focused to even notice the shock on Arthur's face when his eyes glowed gold. Nothing happened. He tried again, a slightly different spell- nothing. Merlin's heart began to race even more. _It's not working. Why is it not working? Oh, God, now what do I do? __  
_

"What the..." Arthur trailed off, feebly gesturing at Merlin. "Your eyes... they were..." he broke off, frowning. Merlin ignored him as he tried to think. _Why isn't my magic working on the bullet? I've always been able to heal ordinary wounds. It's magic ones that- _He stopped short as the realization crashed over him. _Magic. It's magic. Whoever shot him used bullets with some sort of spell on them. And magic won't work on it then. Only the old-fashioned surgical way. _Merlin sat back on his heels at this revelation, unable to even begin thinking about what it might mean or who might have done it. _Gwen, hurry,_ he thought. Arthur broke in again, his voice weaker. "Rhys? This might sound stupid but- was that, uh, was that magic?" he asked awkwardly. When Merlin turned around, Arthur was utterly taken aback at the anguish in the other man's eyes as he nodded.

"I'm so sorry, Arthur. I can't... I can't fix this. Gwen'll be here soon, she'll bring someone who can help." At the sound of Gwen's name, an unreadable expression passed over Arthur's pale face.

"Please- when she gets back, when you talk to her, tell Gwen-"

"Tell her yourself. You are _not _dying, Arthur! Do you understand me? You do _not _get to die! Not here, not now, not like this. Not you," Merlin cut him off fiercely, trying and failing to choke down the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. Arthur managed a small smile.

"I'll try. Thanks, though, for everything. For listening to me earlier, for trying to save me. I wish we'd had more time- in a different life, I think we'd have been good friends, you know?" Merlin nodded past the lump in his throat, remembering the last time Arthur had said that, another time he thought he was dying. _And, in another life, I think we were. I _know_ we were. _

"Yeah," he managed to choke out, "I know." Arthur shifted, a tiny moan of pain escaping his clenched jaw. Seeing this, Merlin reached out to him. "Please, isn't there anything I can do? Can I do anything to make you comfortable, or something?" he asked, hardly able to contain the terror and anguish he felt at the all-too-familiar sight in front of him and cursing his own powerlessness. Arthur opened his mouth, seemed to think better of it, then gave in.

"Would you...just hold me?" he asked, his voice growing thinner. This time, Merlin couldn't stop the tears as he wordlessly nodded. As gently as possible, he pulled the weakening body of his best friend into his arms. Pressing his forehead into the untidy mop of blond hair, Merlin tried not to let his sobs shake his comforting hold on Arthur.

Arthur made his request, somehow knowing instinctively that it was the greatest comfort he could receive. But as the dark-haired man held him close, a sudden burst of light exploded behind his fluttering eyelids.

_There was a castle, made of gleaming stone and labyrinthine corridors that he knew better than anyone else. Toy wooden swords, then, later, gleaming metal blades- he was good with them, really good. Dashing through the corridors pursued by some harried woman, laughing and hand-in-hand with a dark-haired, ivory-fair little girl. A grey-haired man, whose stern and steely rule left little room for affection but was not a bad man or a bad father. Kneeling, then rising again, a strangely heavy weight sitting upon his head. _Then, more memories, later in life, and many featuring a face he recognized even in his fading state. _A woman, with caramel skin and dark curls, the most beautiful girl he'd ever met. A scolding- the first time anyone had spoken to him that way, but truthful nonetheless. A stolen kiss, gentle and surprising in the sunrise. And many more in the years to come- holding her when they were sad, kissing her lazily but passionately in a meadow. A betrayal and a redemption, holding her hand in front of cheering crowds. The best years of his life, even when times seemed almost impossibly hard. _

Arthur flinched slightly as the onslaught continued. _There were men, a small group in a dank old citadel, standing one by one around a crumbling circular table. The rush of warmth and pride, time after time, knowing they were with him. One who could make him laugh, one whose physical strength was matched by the strength of his heart, one who'd been his friend since they were boys, one who betrayed him (though that didn't quite add up), and one who was his brother in a different way than the rest. _Finally, he realized the presence of a single person in so many of these images. _He called him an idiot the first time they met. Never really stopped, either. Standing side by side as a human barricade at a door, even as they were poisoned. A promise, repeated, to stay and fight at his side always. Serious conversations after a terrible battle and betrayal by family. More playful moments, too, that betrayed the real affection. A secret revealed- one he should've known long ago. And a sense of peace and comfort. The truest friend he'd ever known._

_I know him. I remember everything._

Merlin dimly registered sirens coming towards them and the approaching sounds of people rushing through the park. In his arms, Arthur was too weak to notice the sounds, but managed to speak again.

"You did what you could. You always did. Just don't let me be alone- don't let go of me..._Merlin." _

As a stunned Merlin looked down at Arthur, whose eyes had closed again, a team of paramedics burst into the clearing, with a stretcher and other portable medical equipment. Gwen trailed behind them. Merlin lifted his tear-streaked face to her, and as the paramedics gently took Arthur from him to begin working, he went to her side and pulled her close.

* * *

"Excuse me, sir, miss?" A doctor in crisp blue scrubs approached the pair, who sat holding hands tightly in the waiting room of the hospital. They got up, gripping each other tighter as they prepared for the news. "Mr. Penduron is out of surgery. We were able to remove the bullet and give him a blood transfusion. It's amazing, but that bullet somehow missed every place it could've done permanent damage. And whoever it was that slowed his bleeding in the field, probably saved his life. Stopped him from losing too much blood," she explained.

"So- he's going to be alright, then?" Merlin asked, voicing the question they both desperately needed to know. The doctor smiled.

"Yes. He's just fine. He's awake, actually. He's asking for you both. But maybe one at a time?" The friends exchanged a look, then Gwen released Merlin's hand.

"You go. You're the one that saved him- you should go first," she said.

"Are you sure? Gwen, he's your..." Merlin trailed off, aware of the doctor's presence. Gwen smiled.

"And he's your best friend. Go on, now. You know how he hates being kept waiting." Neither Merlin nor Gwen could help grinning mischievously. With that, Merlin followed the doctor to see his best friend and king- who apparently now knew exactly who they were.

_**I may be evil to leave on a cliffhanger, but I'm not evil enough to keep you waiting too long! I knew this would be an emotional chapter, with Arthur dying and Merlin incapable of helping, but having not seen the whole series, I wasn't sure. Did I do alright, was it emotional enough? Please tell me in your reviews, if you are so inclined :) Also, the reference in this chapter, the "we'd have been friends" was to Merlin and Arthur's conversation in 4x01. But new questions: the bullet, specifically. Any theories? Hope you enjoyed reading, please review if you would. Could you maybe get me to 40 reviews? If you do, I will PM everyone who reviews this chapter and answer one question each about the rest of the story, even if it involves spoilers. Thanks again, everyone! You are all much appreciated!**_


	12. Awakenings

Merlin entered the hospital room warily, cringing slightly at the cold sterility of the environment. Indescribable relief surged through him as Arthur turned his head to greet him. Although he was still a bit pale and tired, Arthur's expression was clear, he was sitting upright, and best of all, Merlin could see his king in the blue eyes that now looked at him. Suddenly uncertain of what to say, Merlin closed the door and shuffled awkwardly. Fortunately for him, Arthur spoke first.

"Is it safe for us to talk?" he asked cautiously. Understanding his friend's concern, Merlin turned to the door he had closed moments earlier. His eyes glowed briefly, and for a split second the door frame glowed the same gold before returning to normal. Turning back to Arthur, he nodded.

"Soundproofing spell. No one outside this room can hear what we say," he explained briefly. Arthur hesitated for a minute. Misreading his hesitation as discomfort with the magic, Merlin flinched away. Arthur noticed this slight movement and rolled his eyes.

"_Mer_lin," he said, the eye-rolling evident even in his voice. At that all-too-familiar exasperated summons, Merlin couldn't suppress his grin. _Damned if I haven't missed that, _he thought affectionately. When he turned to face Arthur again, he was relieved to see a slight smile spreading across the blond man's face. "Honestly. D'you really think that would still bother me? Idiot!" he said, but with the affectionate smile on his face that betrayed his genuine pleasure at seeing his best friend. Before Merlin could react, he had reached out to lightly hit Merlin over the head, ruffling his hair in the process. Merlin only half-heartedly tried to slap Arthur's hands away, delighted at the playful reaction he had missed for centuries.

A moment later, though, Arthur's face turned serious and his voice took on the more formal and regal speech of the king he had been. "But, Merlin. I believe you have some explaining to do, old friend. How am I here? And Guinevere? Are there any others in this time and place? Tell me what has happened...please," he added, a slightly confused look barely diminishing the kingly air that had once again settled upon his features. Merlin nodded, pulling his chair up close to Arthur's bedside and preparing to tell him everything.

"All right. It's a long story. But it begins just after you...just after you died. It begins at the lake of Avalon."

* * *

"My God," Arthur breathed, trying to take in everything his former servant had told him, as Merlin sat back, weary from telling the admittedly emotional story. One thought that occurred to Arthur stood out from the others. "Merlin," he said, calling his friend's attention back to him, "I'm so sorry. For all those years, all that waiting. You must have been so alone. And while I'm grateful for what you have done, while I cannot express how glad I am that you did it, for that I am truly sorry," he spoke gently, clapping Merlin on the shoulder in an attempt at a gesture to remind him he wasn't alone anymore.

"I did it for you, Arthur. Well, for the others too. But I never said I'd stop protecting you if you died. So I did what I could for you- like I always have," Merlin looked up, and the two men shared a long look that said all that needed to be said. Clearing his throat, Arthur changed the subject.

"So- Gwen- how much does she know? You said she's been awake for a while and that you tried to bring us together- _again, _I might add. Does she know that I know now?" he asked curiously. Merlin shook his head. "Then let me tell her. Send her in here, and let me be the one to tell her. Alright?" With another nod of assent, Merlin got up and headed to bring Gwen in. Arthur called to him as he was about to leave. "Merlin? Turns out you really were the bravest of us all." With a smile of understanding and gratitude, Merlin opened the door and sent Gwen in.

"Arthur? Oh my God, Arthur! How are you feeling?" Gwen exclaimed, hurrying to Arthur's bedside. She was so absorbed in fussing over him that she didn't notice the brief golden glow on the door (but Arthur did, and he smiled). He captured one of her hands in his.

"Gwen. I'm fine, really I am." She paid him no mind but continued to mutter under her breath about pillows and medicines. "Gwen," he tried again as she pulled away to move to the other side of his bed. "Guine_**vere**!"_ he finally said, reaching out to seize her wrist again. Gwen's heart leapt into her throat. _I yelled at him, told him to be kinder to the people of Ealdor. That was the first time he said my full name. Just like that, too. _Trying to stay calm, she turned to look at Arthur, who was smiling slyly where he lay. "Guinevere," he repeated, caressing each syllable. _God, how I've missed hearing him say my name. You'd think after all this time, it wouldn't have this effect on me anymore. But it always does. _

"Arthur?" she asked, tentatively placing her other hand on top of his. Arthur smiled at her, the gentle, boyish smile he only had for her.

"Please, my lady, forgive me. Coming home to you took a little longer than I expected, wife," he said, in the soft tones she recognized immediately.

"Arthur! Oh, my lord, oh how I've missed you!" Heedless of any queenly demeanor, she launched herself at him, throwing her arms around him and held him as close as she could. Laughing, he hugged her back, pressing a kiss into her dark hair, then wincing when she bumped into his wound.

"Careful, love," he cautioned gently. Gwen hastily loosened her hold.

"Sorry. It's just... I'm afraid if I let you go I'll lose you again. And I couldn't bear that. Arthur smiled and pulled her close again, careful to keep space between her and the wound that still ached.

"I'm not going anywhere. My wise, wonderful, kind, brave queen. I will never leave you again."

* * *

In the living room of his spacious home, a man with curly light brown hair had just turned on his TV when a sudden jolt shook him, causing him to involuntarily stumble onto his couch. A few moments later, he was able to relax and let out a deep breath, exhausted by the onslaught of memories. On the evening news, he was horrified to see a breaking news story that a Parliamentary candidate, the son of a prominent political family, had been shot. Grabbing his cell phone, he dashed out the door and hailed a taxi.

In a small office building, a dark-skinned man was finally heading home for the night after an exceptionally long day reviewing all sorts of strategies and statistics. Just as he reached to turn off the lights, his whole body tensed up and he had to grab the back of a chair to stay relatively steady. When the world righted itself again, he had many thoughts running through his head, but one stood out most of all. _My sister._

In a jovial, warmly lit pub, a man with long hair lazily sat at the bar, nonchalantly sipping his drink and making casual conversation with the bartender. As a sudden flood tore through his mind, only his natural calm helped him hide the enormous change taking place within his mind from the people around him. With a sudden clarity of purpose, he got up- the first time he'd ever abandoned a drink- and headed towards the exit. He was in such a rush that he accidentally bumped into a dark-haired man sitting at a high-top table nearby.

"Whoa, sorry, mate," he apologized to the young man as he dashed by.

"That's alright, don't worry about it," the other man replied, a slightly surprised expression on his face and a distinctly Welsh accent. The long-haired man didn't even spare him a glance as he hurried out the door.

In a small flat, a tall, muscular man was just climbing into bed when an electric jolt laid him flat on his back. As the pain in his head subsided, he couldn't help breaking into a smile as he rolled over to finally get some sleep after a long day.

In an art gallery, a tanned and handsome man was meandering through an exhibit of fiber art. He liked art as much as anyone, but really he was hoping to catch a glimpse of the beautiful blonde assistant curator he had seen at the gallery many times. Pausing before one work of art, he smiled, knowing it was hers. Most of the other pieces were very abstract, even harsh, but not this one. This piece was gentle, thoughtful, and dreamlike depictions of beautiful lilies. As a sudden rush of memories poured into his mind, he was able to stand straight with no indication of what was happening other than the suddenly tense lines in his face. Looking again at the lily piece, he sighed and headed for the door. There were more important things at hand.

_**So now everyone's awake! Hope you liked the little conversations in the hospital- I enjoyed writing them. What did you think of the others' awakenings? There were two main clues in there as to what's coming, including a part of Arthurian legend I plan to use that the show never did. Guesses? I'm curious if anyone picked up on them. Thanks again for the wonderful reviews, and my deepest appreciation to every single reader!**_

_**~C**_


	13. The Hidden Land

_Four days_ later

"Remind me again why the hell we have to meet out here?" Arthur grumbled as he, Gwen, and Merlin made their way to a relatively quiet spot on the outskirts of the London metropolitan area. Technically, he shouldn't be out and about so soon after being shot. But having the most powerful warlock of all time for a best friend did have its advantages. With the bullet gone, Merlin was able to work his healing magic on Arthur's wound, getting him back to normal in a fraction of the time. Now the only remnant of the attack that had nearly taken his life was a small scar that Merlin explained would probably never fade. Today, however, was a very important day. Leon had arrived at the hospital less than an hour after Arthur was out of surgery. As soon as the room was sealed, he had dashed to his king's bedside, affectionately ruffling Merlin's hair as he passed, and knelt on one knee before Arthur. Upon being ordered to get up, he had clasped hands firmly with Arthur before turning to Gwen, who threw her arms around her childhood friend and protector of so many years. With a little help from Merlin's magic, the group had tracked down the rest of the Round Table and sent them messages to meet at a particular location this very day. That's where the three friends were headed now, walking a good portion of the way in order to leave as few traces behind as possible. Needless to say, Arthur did not take kindly to this particular inconvenience.

"You'd think by now you'd have learned to trust me, Sire," Merlin called back over his shoulder, grinning saucily. It had taken no time at all for the two men to fall back into their old patterns of respect and affection mixed with a thorough helping of snarky insults and banter. "Just follow me." Arthur rolled his eyes theatrically.

"Yes, because _that _always ends so well," he replied sarcastically.

"And following _your _ideas _never _caused a problem!" Merlin parried back. At Arthur's side, Gwen couldn't conceal her giggling as she watched her beloved boys acting just like they always had. With a grin, Arthur turned to her.

"And what are _you _laughing at, Your Majesty?" he mock-scolded, playfully poking her in a ticklish spot on her side. Gwen teased right back, and soon the air was full of their snorts and laughter.

"If you two could stop flirting for a few seconds- we're here," Merlin said dryly as he came to a stop. The pair abruptly stopped, blushing just a little, as they looked around. The particular bit of land was no different from anything else in their surroundings. Arthur wasted no time in making that very comment, to which Merlin serenely replied, "Just wait. Wait for the others- then I'll show you."

They didn't have long to wait. Moments later, a rustling behind them alerted them to the presence of another person. As they turned around, Gwen was greeted by a sight she had desperately longed for and a voice that called her name.

"Elyan." Gwen dropped Arthur's hand and ran headlong into her brother's arms like a little girl. "Oh, Elyan, you're here, you're really here!" He caught her up and held her close, allowing her to bury her face in his shoulder. Finally setting Gwen down, Elyan turned to Arthur, who wordlessly enfolded him into a hug before Merlin did the same. As the family reunited, Merlin kept an eye out for the others. He was rewarded a few minutes later when a long-haired man came loping towards them, cheerfully exclaiming, "Merlin!" as he approached and wrapped Merlin into an enormous bear hug.

"Hello, Gwaine," Merlin beamed at his friend, pulling him into the group. Gwaine clasped hands with Elyan and Arthur, then turned to Gwen.

"Princess Esmeralda," he smirked, pulling out a daisy from his pocket and offering it to her. With a smile, Gwen allowed him to tuck the flower behind her ear before he picked her up off the ground in an affectionate embrace. Just as he set her down, Leon quietly joined the group, greeting Elyan and Gwaine warmly after acknowledging the royal couple and Merlin. Minutes later, the sound of footsteps heralded the arrival of another knight. This time it was Percival, whom Elyan greeted with a yell and a hug before the others had even noticed him. And in an echo of their first meeting long ago, the muscular man was not alone. Behind him, lagging back uncertainly, walked a man with dark hair, tanned skin, and an enormous range of emotions evident on his handsome face.

Sensing the presence of his old friend, Merlin looked up and met his eyes. Without hesitation, Merlin smiled, crossed straight to Lancelot, and hugged him warmly. As he did, he felt the knight's body relax just slightly.

"Merlin, old friend, it's good to see you again. I never thought we'd meet again after..." Lancelot trailed off as both men silently recalled a lake and a final gift from one friend to another. Merlin nodded brusquely to cover the lump in his throat at the memory. "In fact, I'd like to know how exactly it is we're all here."

"In a moment," Merlin assured him, noticing everyone awkwardly uncertain of how to greet Lancelot. "But first, I think there's another explanation that is owed everyone here."

* * *

"Lancelot? Is this true?" Arthur asked, finally meeting the dark eyes of his onetime friend. The knight shrugged, nodding slightly.

"I suppose so. I mean, I don't really have clear memories from the time when Morgana was controlling me. Or, rather, controlling that shadow of me," he corrected himself. "I went through the veil, then it's a bit blurry for a while. The last thing I remember was opening my eyes on the lake. I knew I was dead, but I saw Merlin, and I felt the weight lift off me- I knew I was free," he finished. "But I'm sorry, I am so very, very sorry, for the pain that was caused. When I...woke up, a few days ago, I was grateful for one thing in particular: that I could have the chance I never had in that other life, to try to make amends to you, my lord. And you, milady," he added, inclining his head in Gwen's direction. Finally, Arthur's expression softened. To Lancelot's joy and surprise, the king stood tall and held out his hand. With a smile, the two men clasped arms, sharing a look that finished making amends. As Arthur stepped back, his queen moved forward. With all the grace and gentleness of a true queen, Gwen offered her hand to Lancelot and squeezed his hand reassuringly. With that tension out of the way, the other knights felt free to greet their comrade and friend like a brother.

The group finally broke apart when Arthur turned to Merlin and asked, "All right then, Merlin. Care to explain what we're doing here?" A serious expression settled over Merlin's face as he nodded.

"As you know, this region is the land that was once known as Camelot. But long ago, after you had all gone, the land fell into disarray. Times changed, and people changed. I sensed the shift before many others did, and I was prepared. I put out a call, to as many magic users as I could possibly find. I told them what I wanted to do and asked for their help. Knowing who I was, what had passed, and what I told them would someday be, they agreed."

"Agreed to what?" Gwen asked curiously. Merlin smiled slightly and gestured to the apparently empty air behind them.

"Agreed to this."

"Merlin, what on earth...?" Arthur began, before Gwaine shushed him. Merlin smirked, then his eyes flashed gold as he approached as spot in the air that was now shimmering.

"Follow me," he said. The others exchanged uncertain looks, then Lancelot stepped forward, followed almost immediately by Gwaine. Merlin grinned at his friends before walking straight into the shimmering air, the knights right behind him. Behind them, the others gasped as the three men seemed to disappear from view. Hastily, Gwen and Arthur dashed after them, followed by Elyan, Leon, and Percival. Stumbling to a stop, the friends looked around in wonder as Merlin positively beamed. Although the space behind them was unchanged, it seemed as if they had stepped into a pocket of space untouched by time. The land was lush, wild, and green, and just a little distance away they could see an ancient citadel.

"Look familiar?" Merlin asked, grinning proudly. Gwen glanced towards the citadel, then back again to Merlin.

"Is that...?" she began to ask. Merlin nodded.

"It is. The citadel of the ancient kings, and the home of the first Round Table," he said calmly. Seeing the looks of utter confusion on everyone's faces, he continued to explain. "What I asked all those magic users to help me do was to hide two places from the world, preserve them with magic and lock them from anyone finding them. With all our power combined, we were able to surround those two areas with wards. No one would ever be able to enter, or see what lay behind them. All they'd do is cross from one side to the other instantaneously, without even realizing they'd been transported."

"You said two places. What was the other? Did you save the castle of Camelot?" Gwaine asked, a hint of longing in his voice. Merlin shook his head.

"Couldn't. It would've raised suspicions- an entire castle, the center of a great kingdom, just vanishing off the face of the earth? No. The other place is a little ways from here, a place most people never even knew existed and so wouldn't know if it was gone," he replied, glancing at Lancelot and Arthur.

"Avalon." Arthur spoke the name of the place solemnly as Merlin nodded.

"I couldn't risk a place of that much magic being discovered by anyone," he explained. "It's one of the most powerful places on earth, it needed protecting. And that's where all of you were sent to wait. So there was no place I wanted more to keep safe."

Looking around, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face, Arthur felt conflicting emotions. _I'm home, truly home again. There's no place like it. But everything I loved, it's gone. I am a king without a kingdom. What does that make me? _He was distracted by Leon's inquiry to Merlin.

"How did we get in, then, if the spell is supposed to keep everyone out?" he queried. Merlin smiled.

"I guess you could say I'm like a key, and the magic is the lock. I can always get in, and I can choose to unlock the door and let others in," he answered, gesturing to the group. "Come to think of it," he added, "I should probably check and make sure the spell has resealed, so no one wanders in here."

"It's a little late for that." A voice, a familiar voice despite the unexpected Welsh accent, echoed coolly from behind them. Gwaine's face creased briefly in recognition of a voice he'd heard only a few days earlier. The others whirled around, Arthur and Elyan simultaneously pushing Gwen behind them protectively, but Merlin couldn't bring himself to turn just yet. _I can't..._ Merlin forced the whirlwind of emotions down and slowly turned to face the intruder.

A young man, probably barely out of his teens and impossibly handsome, stood before them. The slight breeze ruffled his dark curls, making him look even younger than he was, and the faintest mirthless smile turned up the corners of his lips. Merlin flinched almost imperceptibly as the newcomer turned and met his eyes- that pure, beautiful, bright blue that the warlock had never been able to forget.

"Hello, Arthur. Merlin," the man said, acknowledging the king and warlock before nodding at the others, who stood tense and ready to attack if need be. The shock showed clearly on Arthur's face.

_"Mordred." _

_**Welcome back, Mordred! Kudos to those of you who guessed the young Welshman last chapter was Mordred. I gave him a Welsh accent after hearing Alexander Vlahos's real accent- it really just makes him even more adorable! I have big plans for him in this lifetime :) This chapter also saw the beginning of an emotional arc for Arthur which I'm looking forward to developing. Also: 50 REVIEWS! Wow, you guys, thank you SO much! I'm so glad that my attempt to give a happy ending to a legend with a notoriously downer ending has made you smile. Know that every review makes me so happy, and I appreciate every reader!**_


	14. The Prodigal Knight

"It doesn't have to be like this, Mordred. It's a new life, things can be different," Arthur pleaded, reaching out just slightly to his onetime knight and betrayer. Mordred's gaze turned to ice.

"It doesn't, does it? How generous of you to say." For a brief moment, the cold anger on his face was replaced with an expression of longing, then it was gone. "If only you were right."

"So that was you, the other night, then?" Gwen piped up, glaring at the man who had killed her husband. This seemed to wrong-foot the younger man.

"Was what me?" he asked, genuinely confused. Arthur picked up on this and frowned. Gwen spoke again in regal and icy tone.

"Arthur was shot four nights ago while we were walking in the park. The bullet that nearly killed him was enchanted. Now, answer your king. _Was that you?_" she demanded. A few of the knights looked a little taken aback by the sudden fury emanating from the queen. Even Mordred was startled.

"No. No, it wasn't me. I don't know who it was, but I swear, I had nothing to do with it. I wasn't anywhere near there," he promised.

"And why should we believe you?" Arthur asked coldly. But internally, he had to wonder, _Mordred is the one who killed me before. So if it wasn't him this time- who was it?_ Before Mordred could answer, Gwaine spoke up.

"Because he was at a pub." Gwaine stepped forward to look the young man in the eye. "It was you, wasn't it? You're the man I bumped into that night, right after I- we, I suppose- woke up." Mordred nodded. After sharing a glance with Gwaine, Arthur took a step back, accepting the truth of Mordred's words. "I didn't recognize you, I suppose, because I was in such a hurry. And the accent," Gwaine added.

"Yeah, just out of curiosity, how is it that we all speak the same as we did before, but you don't? Were your parents Welsh in this life?" Arthur asked. Mordred laughed without any real joy.

"How would I know? They left me to the care of strangers when I was a newborn. I was raised in a home near Cardiff, then as a foster child. Bounced around from family to family- seems no one wanted me. Not the first time I've been made to feel that way," he concluded bitterly, the Welsh vowels becoming more pronounced as he brusquely tried to quash the emotion in his voice. Arthur looked at him with a slight hint of pity.

"Mordred, I'm so sorry, I didn't know," he said gently. Mordred drew himself up again, looking haughtily at the blond man.

"I don't need your pity, Arthur Pendragon. Nor do I want it," he said, his blue eyes flashing with icy fire.

"Then what is it you want?" Arthur asked, wary but unwavering as he faced down his murderer. Mordred smiled, a smile that would have been angelic if it had not been so full of anger and ice.

"The same thing I wanted all those years ago. To make you feel my pain, to make you pay for what you did. You betrayed me, Arthur! You turned your back on me, and my kind, and turned me back into an outsider- like I was my whole life! I followed you because I thought you were different, that you would be more accepting. You had no mercy- you were no better than your father. And you," his voice, which had been steadily rising, shook slightly as he pointed at Merlin, "you, you turned away from your own kind, from others like you. You turned your power _against _those like you because of your loyalty to a man, to a land, that would not allow you to reveal your true self!" He stepped back, anger and pain creasing his young face. "How can I forgive this? I can't even understand it."

All this while, Merlin had been silent, at war with himself as he stared at the young man whose face had haunted him for centuries as he had wondered if he could have given in and been kinder to Mordred and prevented the terrible fate, yet had also hated him for being the person who had directly ended Arthur's life. As Mordred demanded to understand what had transpired in another lifetime, a sudden flash of memories flooded into Merlin's mind, unbidden.

_A boy, not yet a teenager, crying out for help into his mind. He had been unable to turn away then, just as he always would be. _But most of the images came from a later time, when the boy had become a young man. _Saving their lives by turning on Morgana. A boyish enthusiasm at being allowed to ride alongside the King. Jumping in front of a dagger to protect his king and friend. Solemnly standing with him over the secret grave of a fellow magic user, vowing shared silence. The occasional conversation, always wary but somehow a relief. The other knights, affectionately teasing the youngest of their number as they would a little brother. The king himself, embracing him out of joy to see him alive and lifting him off the ground in glee after a particularly challenging bout of combat training. _And a few smaller, more private moments. _The other knights had seen him smile, but they had never gotten to see what he was like when he was truly delighted and free, how those blue eyes positively lit up and gleamed with heartfelt, even giddy laughter. How the often dry meetings of the Round Table had gotten so much less dull for Merlin after the first time he had heard that voice echoing in his head, perfectly mocking and exaggerating Arthur's serious tone, Leon's quick replies, and Gwaine's lazy drawl. And the first time Merlin had dared to think that perhaps he had found a way to not be so alone, standing a little closer together than they should, a single sentence that had wormed its way into his mind and heart forever._

_The love that binds us is more important than the power we wield._

All of this flashed through Merlin's head, powerfully searing across his mind and heart, in the space of a few seconds. Suddenly, unexpectedly, Mordred jerked backwards as if he had been electrically shocked. Snapping to attention, Merlin was beyond surprised to see that the cruel, cold look on the younger man's face had completely disappeared, replaced instead with a look of pure anguish and grief, and pain as if someone had suddenly punched him in the stomach.

_How did you do that? _Merlin heard a familiar voice echo in his mind, full of the same anguish he saw written on the former knight's face. Utterly confused, Merlin reached out to the telepathic bond he and the druid had long shared.

_What d'you mean? How did I do what?_ he asked. Mordred's face creased with wonder and something else, something Merlin couldn't quite place before it vanished.

_You mean you didn't mean to do it? You didn't even realize you were?_

_No, I suppose not. Why? What's going on? _Merlin asked, a brief spasm of worry breaking through his concern for his friends and his confusion over Mordred's questions as the druid man looked completely overwhelmed. _Is that how he really saw me? _Mordred wondered to himself as he considered the wave of emotions and memories that had suddenly transferred into his mind from another's, careful to shield his thoughts. The others had noticed the change in Mordred, too. Arthur stepped forward, warily approaching the anguished young man.

"Mordred?" he asked tentatively. Mordred looked up to meet the eyes of the man he had once considered a friend and had loved to serve.

"The love that binds us...I'd forgotten..." he breathed, murmuring under his breath. _Thank you, Emrys._ To the surprise of everyone gathered there, Mordred fell to one knee in front of Arthur, his head bowed low and still shaking.

"Please. I am so sorry, my lord. I'm so very, very sorry. For everything I did- to all of you. I never should have... but I offer myself to you, to have your justice and vengeance as you see fit. I only ask that you forgive me, sire, before your sentence is carried out," he said humbly. All the anger and bitterness had gone out of his voice, replaced instead by genuine regret and a note of fear. Similarly, the cruel, harsh set of his face had softened into a fearful, lost expression that reminded both Arthur and Merlin just how young Mordred really was. _Is it possible that he heard and saw some of what I was thinking? _Merlin wondered as he contemplated this sudden and unexpected turn of events.

Arthur looked down at the boy at his feet, deciding what to do. _He's not that different from us. He did what he did because of loyalty to those he loved, and because he thought his loyalty had been dismissed_, he realized abruptly. _Can I punish him for that? If Gwen had been in danger- _when _Gwen was in danger- I would've done anything at all to protect her, or, if I couldn't, to avenge her. _Unaware of his best friend's thoughts, Merlin was in fact considering the same thing- only about Freya, or, in a different sense of love, all the things he'd done or been willing to do to protect Arthur.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Mordred, Arthur reached out his hand and gently placed it under the young man's chin, forcing him to look up and meet his eyes. When Mordred dared to raise his eyes to meet the pale blue gaze of the king he had betrayed, he was shocked to see mercy and kindness, not the fury he had expected. Arthur offered his hand to Mordred with a command to get up. Still bewildered, the young knight clasped Arthur's arm as he rose.

"I forgive you, Mordred." Those four words lifted a great weight off of Mordred's chest. "I understand, the allure of vengeance and anger can be overwhelming. You abandoned your honor and loyalty to us in favor of avenging all the wrongs you believed done, and you let your power overwhelm your true heart. I cannot trust you, not yet, but I can forgive you and permit you one more chance," Arthur spoke formally yet kindly, like the king he had been. Mordred managed a smile of gratitude.

"Thank you, my lord. Thank you. I swear, I'll prove myself to you again," he vowed. He turned to the other knights, who still regarded him with a wary hostility. "And to you," he added. An awkward silence followed, finally broken by Lancelot as he stepped forward.

"I don't know you, Mordred, but I too once betrayed my king and my friends, became selfish and convinced I had been wronged, with no small degree of help from Morgana," he began, his voice cracking bitterly as he spoke of the disloyalty that still haunted him. "That makes us the same. We both betrayed our brother knights. And we both drove a blade into Arthur's heart," he added softly, so only Mordred and Arthur heard his last sentence. He extended his hand to Mordred, who regarded him warily. He had heard the rumors about Lancelot in his days as a knight and now fought back the defensive instinct towards Arthur, the desire to punch the man who had wronged his king (and dryly thinking to himself how hypocritical that made him). Mordred shook his hand with a brusque, grateful shared look.

As the group broke off a little into smaller conversations, Mordred caught Merlin staring at him before the older man quickly looked away. _You do not trust me, Emrys. Even more than you used to._

_And why should I? _Merlin's voice echoed in the younger man's head over the familiar telepathic bond. _Arthur's right. You let your bitterness and vengefulness destroy every bit of goodness in your heart. How can I know you won't do it again?_

_You can't, _he replied in the infuriatingly calm, vaguely mysterious manner that Merlin had found both intriguing and frustrating all those years ago. _So you do think I'm a good man at heart, then? _The voice in Merlin's head took on a slightly teasing tone, which Merlin shrugged off.

_Don't push your luck, Mordred, _he warned. Still, a moment later, he couldn't help adding one more word as Mordred turned to walk away.

_Yes._

**_So it seems Mordred is back to his pre-evil self, right? What do you think? I kept thinking about how Mordred was so much like Arthur, Merlin, and the others in that his actions were driven not by power-hungriness or madness (like Morgana) but loyalty and anger at what he saw as betrayal. I have big plans for Mordred's role in this world and his relationships with the others- his character is so complex and fascinating to write; I hope I'm doing him justice. I really wanted to get this chapter up quickly; this week may be busy so updates may be slower for a few days. Thanks so much for all the reviews, follows, and views- please drop me a review if you feel so inclined, and see you next chapter!_**


	15. The New Round Table

_**Quick A/N: I'm upping the rating to T in this chapter, just to be on the safe side.**_

* * *

The group entered the old citadel, reverently approaching the dusty old stone table around which they first had sat so many years ago. Each knight who had been there before instinctively took his old place. Mordred hung back until Gwaine, barely meeting his eyes but not too coldly, gestured to the seat Gaius once had occupied. Arthur again led Guinevere to his left, and, when Merlin hesitated, met his best friends eyes and inclined his head towards the seat on his right. "So now what?" Elyan asked, calling the attention of everyone. Arthur glanced towards Merlin briefly before answering.

"The elections. We're all still running, aren't we? So we pool our resources, work together, support each other, and do all we can to get all of us elected." He glanced back towards Merlin. "If I understand this right, we're here for a reason, we have a purpose to fulfill." For a quick moment, those tiny doubts flashed through his mind again, the uncertainty and strangeness of being a king with no real power and no kingdom. Shaking them off, he continued. "The best thing I can think of now, the way to gain some sort of foothold in order to serve the people as we once did, is to continue as we are now and take our places in the government. What d'you all think?" he asked.

Gwen was the first to speak. "I think it's a brilliant idea. But then, I'm not the one running. I'm still a student. Queen or not, I've put an awful lot of work into this degree. It's what I want, what I've always wanted. Well, always in this life. But it's important to me, it really is. So I'm finishing my doctorate. But as to whether I'll support you in this, you know my answer, Arthur. You always have." She smiled up at her love, who covered her hand with his.

"So it's to be Dr. Smith, then?" he teased, but with no small amount of admiration in his voice at his brilliant, clever queen.

"Wait- Smith? Gwen Smith? That's your name? Seriously?" Gwaine asked, mirth dancing across his features. He grinned mischievously. "Who else have we got?"

"Arthur Penduron- yeah, yeah, I know," Arthur said, casting a warning glance towards Gwaine.

"Leon Addington."

"Percy Hebllewys." Mordred's eyes widened as choked down a laugh when Percival gave his name, earning a confused look from Percival and a questioning gaze from Merlin. _I'll tell you later._

"Elyan Markham."

"Mortimer Blackwell," Mordred said with a grimace at the old-fashioned name.

"Lance Chevalier. Don't even start," Lancelot sighed as Gwaine's grin grew to Cheshire-cat proportions. "Alright, then, if you're so funny- what's your name? Certainly not something as _ordinary _as some of ours." The grin slid off of Gwaine's face immediately as he muttered under his breath.

"Sorry, Gwaine, didn't catch that," Percival called out cheerfully. Glaring at his friend, Gwaine finally spoke up.

"George Green," he admitted, his name the most amusingly ordinary of them all. When the snorts of laughter at the absurdity of their situation finally died down, Arthur resumed his original line of thought.

"So then. We work together. Support each other publicly, form an alliance-"

"A new Round Table," Merlin finished. The others looked at each other and agreed in the span of a few shared glances- all that was needed among this band of brothers. Merlin had another thought. "So you're all politicians, Gwen has her role at your side, Arthur. But where do I fit in? And Mordred?" he added. Arthur looked steadily at each of them, apparently contemplating the best move.

"Mordred can be an intern on one of our campaigns. You're young enough to fit that role," he decided, addressing the youngest of his knights. "And Merlin, my chief advisor," he finished quickly. Merlin looked up, surprised at the important role Arthur had just given him.

"Really?" he asked, unable to hide his surprise. Arthur smiled slightly as he turned back to Gwen.

"Well, you already are. Might as well have the title to go with it," he said brusquely, trying to cover for the genuine truth of the words with a casual air. With that acknowledgment, a warmth bloomed in Merlin's heart as he returned the grin of his best friend. Quietly and in pairs, so as to avoid drawing attention to themselves, the group slipped back into the modern world to begin a new chapter.

* * *

"Guinevere, are you still studying?" Arthur's voice floated in from the adjacent room to where Gwen was stretched out on the sofa surrounded by papers. Ever since they had woken up about a week earlier, Gwen had essentially moved in with Arthur into his more spacious home. Now that they had found each other again, neither one wanted to be apart more than was necessary. Although more strenuous activity had been ruled out while Arthur finished healing, the first night that they had shared a bed once more had been the best night's sleep either had had since they were king and queen of Camelot. Emerging from the bathroom shirtless and in pajama bottoms, Arthur watched his true love as she shuffled frantically through a binder, her hair falling loosely over the bare shoulders revealed by her pale purple nightgown.

"Guinevere." The tone of Arthur's voice finally made Gwen look up from her work, his voice seemingly dropped an octave and slowly rolling her name off his tongue. Startled at his sudden appearance, Gwen couldn't quite stifle a gasp. "Come to bed, Guinevere." In seconds, Gwen had extricated herself from her pile of papers, blushing slightly at her own eagerness. Arthur grinned as he took her hand in his, using his free hand to turn out the lights as they walked down the hall to their bedroom.

As soon as the door was closed, Arthur turned around and captured Gwen's mouth with his own. She responded with equal intensity as the kiss deepened until he actually lifted her off her feet and backed them towards the bed without once breaking the kiss. Setting her down, he began to play with the short hem of her nightgown, inching it upwards. Breaking off just for a moment, Gwen managed to gasp out, "Arthur...are you sure...your wound..." At this, Arthur looked up at her. She couldn't suppress a giggle at the combination of his disheveled state and his clear annoyance at having to stop even for a moment.

"I have all the medicine I need right here, my Guinevere," he murmured in her ear. Giving into the desire for their intimacy of long ago, Gwen pulled him down to kiss her again, this time also working at the drawstrings of his trousers as he continued to move her dress. Moments later, they moved together as if they had never been apart, with all the passion of their wedding night yet all the comfort and familiarity of years spent together.

Afterwards, Gwen lay contentedly in bed, using Arthur as a pillow and nestling her head in that familiar crook of his shoulder that fit her perfectly. One arm wrapped around her, he kissed the top of her head and laced his other hand through her hand that lay on his chest.

"I've missed you so much, Arthur," she whispered. "All those years after you were gone, and then I was awake before you were. I'm just...I'm just so glad to be home."

"Home? Guinevere, you saw today, most of Camelot is gone, even our home," he said, a little confused and even bitter._ And without Camelot, what does that make us? What does it make me?_ Gwen twisted around so she could face him.

"That's not what I meant, Arthur. _You_ are my home." Despite his worries, when she said that, Arthur's face broke into her favorite unreserved smile as he leaned down to kiss her gently.

"And you, Guinevere, you are mine."

* * *

Merlin sat curled up on his sofa, idly making the lamplight change colors. Since Arthur's awakening, Gwen had stopped spending the evenings with Merlin as frequently, or at least left much earlier instead of sleeping over. And he was alright with that, he really was. He had always known the two of them had a great destiny to fulfill together and loved how happy his friends were together. But, he had to admit, it was a tiny bit lonely after growing so used to the presence of another person. Merlin was just about to head for bed when he heard a sudden sound at his door. There was a slight knock, then a hesitation. Unsure if he'd imagined the sound, he sighed and swung himself off the sofa to investigate. Before he could quite reach the door, an all-too-familiar voice echoed in his head.

_Emrys? Are you there? Are you awake? _Mordred stood, nervously twisting the edge of his jacket, outside the door, wondering if he was making a mistake by even coming by. When there was no response, he let out a breath and turned to walk away. Just then, the door swung open, revealing the warlock looking decidedly less intimidating with his dark hair still ruffled from a shower and wearing a T-shirt and light sweatpants.

"Y'know," Merlin said, trying very hard to ignore how the black of the younger man's shirt only intensified the blue of his eyes, "most people just knock, or say 'Can I come in?'"Mordred shrugged apologetically.

"Sorry. Old habits die hard." He paused for a moment, then smiled, with a particular sparkle few people ever got to see in his eyes. "Can I come in?" After a long moment's pause in which both men were internally debating the wisdom of that particular idea, Merlin opened the door further and stepped to the side.

"Sure. Come on in."

_**So we have an alliance, a little Arwen interlude, and Mordred showing up at Merlin's flat. Less action here, but more setup for some emotional arcs. Thought it'd be fun to give the knights ridiculously boring names, but Gwaine's is a reference to original legend (Gawain and the Green Knight). Also: Why did Mordred laugh at Percival's last name? Because if you separate the name into "heb llewys" it apparently means "without sleeves" in Welsh. Thank you, Google Translate, for helping me with that little joke :) And, in case anyone didn't know, "chevalier" is French for "knight", and Lancelot became a big player in the legends courtesy of French versions. Thanks as always to my fabulous readers and reviewers; please drop me a review if you are so inclined, and see you soon!**_


	16. A Visit in the Night

As the door shut behind him, Mordred looked around the room, trying to hide his curiosity by glancing casually. He wasn't really surprised by the simple warmth of the flat- it suited its owner well. Merlin cleared his throat awkwardly, neither man quite certain what to do now that they alone were in the same room. _I shouldn't have even come here. This was probably a mistake, _Mordred thought as he grasped for what he wanted to say now that he was here. Finally, he managed to break the awkward silence.

"I, uh, I wanted to thank you, for earlier today," he said, only slightly meeting Merlin's eyes. "I couldn't have... well, I don't think I would have remembered..." The young man trailed off, fumbling for the right words. "You were right- I'd forgotten what the good felt like, all the better times. I'd lost all of that long ago. And you gave that back to me. Gave me back the life I wanted. So thank you," he finished softly. Finally daring to meet the warlock's gaze, Mordred was startled to see him smiling, just slightly. Merlin hadn't known what to make of the druid, he never had, but the vulnerable truth of his gratitude was unmistakable. This was the young man who had been Camelot's most loyal knight, who had good-naturedly tolerated the teasing of the older knights and been eager to please (and generally quite successful at it).

"You're welcome." Gesturing for Mordred to sit down on the couch, he himself sat on the other side of the couch, the initial ice broken. As he sank into the cushion, he added, "But you know I didn't mean to do it. Hell, I didn't even know I'd done anything until you said something." Merlin's face furrowed slightly in confusion. "How can that be? The only time I've ever spoken with someone telepathically is when I've intentionally done it." Mordred shrugged, not wanting to voice the idea that he had had, partly out of embarrassment if he was wrong, and partly out of a desire not to test the fragile bond between the two magicians. But Mordred had other things he wanted, no, needed, to ask.

"You knew. Who I was, what I was going to do. You always knew." It wasn't a question. Mordred looked straight ahead instead of into the gray-blue eyes of the man sitting next to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Merlin nod, shifting slightly as he sighed deeply.

"Yeah. I was told, the first time we met, when you were a boy. A rather...cryptic friend of mine warned me that you were not to be trusted. When I pressed him, he admitted that it was your fate to be Arthur's downfall. And then..." Merlin lost his place as he remembered the vision he had been shown, many years later. _A raging battle, all flame and smoke, steel and blood. A young man whose handsome face is overwritten with a cold, vengeful fury. And that man, that face unknown to him at the time, driving a blade into a tall blond man as Merlin watched, powerless to stop the sword from plunging into the body of his best friend. _Swallowing, he finished, "And then I saw. Years later, just before Arthur and I first met you as an adult, I met a Seer, who gave me a vision of how... of how Arthur was destined to die. So then, when you came out of the forest to stop the bandits from killing us..."

"You recognized my face from the vision. And then when I told Arthur who I was- that's when you put it together," Mordred finished, and Merlin nodded in assent. "So that's why," he said thoughtfully.

"That's why what?" Merlin asked. Mordred looked up, a hint of bitterness in those blue eyes.

"That's why you couldn't stand me, why you never really gave me a chance." Merlin jerked suddenly, startled.

"I never hated you, Mordred. I knew what you were destined to do, but...aside from that, I didn't dislike you at all, really." As Merlin turned to reassure the younger man of the truth of his words, flashes of memories seared through his mind, memories full of emotions long kept in check for fear they would bubble up at the most inconvenient of times. _It's not like he didn't see attractive men and women all the time among the court of Camelot, but this dark-haired stranger, clad all in black and with the most beautiful blue eyes, was the most handsome man he had ever seen. But that only lasted a split second until he realized where he had seen the man's face before. And when he spoke his name, his stomach sank even more. Yet he was not cruel, sneaking food to Arthur and Merlin, then quite literally stabbing Morgana in the back. That moment, the first of many shared snippets of time, when he reached to help the younger man with his cloak and his hands trembled almost imperceptibly as they stood just a little bit closer than was normal. Much as he tried, he couldn't help being continually drawn to the youngest of the knights. _

"It was sort of nice, actually, to have someone around who knew about me. Lancelot did, you know. He figured it out the first time we met. Kept my secret all those years. But he'd been gone for years when you showed up."

_Much as he wanted to ignore it, he couldn't help feeling an electric connection to the druid man, and a grudging respect born of a shared secret. The time Merlin had dropped a basket of Arthur's laundry, and, seeing no one else in the corridor, began to use magic to pick up and refold the clothes quickly. Then the words, "Let me help you with that" from just behind him, and turning to see Mordred's eyes glint, first with mischief, then with magic as clothes began flying even faster with both men working. A handful of conversations, often at night after the others were asleep on whatever quest they were on that week. Playing with the campfire using magic, letting down his guard just a little bit, and being rewarded by seeing the real Mordred, the brilliant and loyal and passionate man with a lively spark in his eyes. The slight tingle when he helped him with his cloak or grabbed his arm to hold him back, a tiny bit of magic from each of them meeting and sparking. Concealing and sharing their laughter as they telepathically entertained each other during council meetings. A touch on the shoulder here, a held gaze there._

_No. He hadn't disliked him at all._

Realizing that Mordred was still watching him, Merlin quickly added, "You know, everything I did, I did to protect Arthur. It's what I always did. When I first came to Camelot, I was told that it was my destiny to protect him so he could fulfill his own destiny. And at first, I hated it, I did it because I had to. But then," he smiled slightly at the memories of years past and friendship grown, "over time, I saw the man, the king, Arthur would be. Then I began to do it for his sake, because I wanted to. You have to understand- by the time you arrived, there was nothing I wouldn't do to defend Arthur, both as my king and my friend."

Mordred nodded in understanding, remembering how the young warlock had been nearly everywhere Arthur was, though blending into the background perfectly, like an invisible shadow yet always ready to jump into action. _He himself had always been aware of the other man's presence, far more attuned to him than to anyone else. At first, he'd thought it was simply the reassuring presence of another magic user, even a vaguely hostile one. But over time, he'd been alarmed to realize there was something else. He'd always been drawn to Emrys, the great and powerful warlock known by his people, but he found himself liking snarky, wise Merlin even more, the young man whose mild manner belied the spark of passion and power within his eyes. He had to catch himself to stop staring at the other man, but he couldn't stop reaching out to him however he could. Although he knew Emrys kept his guard up all the time, Mordred liked to think that once in a while, he got to see the real Merlin, not the unflappable and loyal servant and advisor or the powerful and potentially fearsome warlock, but the man wise beyond his years and yet still playful and young. The moments they could share with the only other person who knew about them- he treasured those times, feeling relief at not having to hide who he really was. _

Upon thinking about openly admitting his identity, Mordred suddenly blushed unexpectedly. Noticing this, Merlin looked at him, puzzled.

"Mordred? Something else on your mind?" Uncertain how to proceed, Mordred found himself nodding automatically.

"It's, uh, well, it's just... I s'pose it's nice, now that everyone knows that I have magic, not having to hide that. But, uh, I don't know how to say this, but, there's sort of one other things that still makes me different. And I know it's different now than it was then, but I still don't know..." Mordred stumbled over his words, desperately trying to maintain some dignity and feeling the strange sensation of the social norms of two time periods warring within him. Nervously, he pushed an unruly lock of hair out of his face, only for it to flop back moments later.

Resisting the urge to reach over and smooth back the dark curls, reminding himself of the thousands of reasons why that was a very bad idea, Merlin instead prompted, "And?"

"I'm... that is, I realized a while back that I like... Oh, for heaven's sake, I'm bi!" Mordred finally spit it out. He couldn't meet Merlin's eyes, knowing that if he did he might betray emotions he couldn't bear to be let known, especially now that the older man had every reason to despise and distrust him. To his surprise, Merlin chuckled softly. Looking up in confusion, he saw the warlock smile slightly.

"Well what do you know? Perhaps we have more in common than we thought," he said deliberately, while internally uncertain whether to feel joy or panic at this particular revelation from the young magician. Hastily, Mordred looked up and around.

"Uh...Sorry, would you excuse me a second? Could you point me towards the bathroom?" Mordred asked, looking for an escape for a moment. A tiny smile played at the corners of Merlin's mouth, but he simply nodded and pointed down the hall.

"Sure. Down the hall, first door on the left." With a quick nod of thanks, Mordred strode out of the room. As soon as he had disappeared around the corner, Merlin sank back onto the couch with a sigh. _Why do I think things just got a lot more complicated?_

Mordred turned down the hall, flustered and still confused. Looking at the doors, he suddenly panicked. _Crap. Which door was it? First or second door on the left? I think it was the second, wasn't it? _Pushing open that door, Mordred quickly realized he had made a mistake. This was not a bathroom, but rather a bedroom- Merlin's bedroom. Knowing he should just close the door and leave, Mordred nonetheless slipped inside, unable to contain his curiosity. The room was much like the rest of the flat- simple and spare yet somehow comfortable. He quickly skipped his gaze over the bed and instead focused on a glint of silver that caught his eye on the nightstand.

Meandering over, Mordred picked up the small silver object that sat beside a carved wooden box, slightly open as if the object belonged inside the box but had been left out accidentally when Merlin was looking at it. A sudden wave of recognition crashed over the young knight as he took the smooth piece of silver in his hands: a clasp that had once held the cloak of a knight of Camelot. Turning it over, Mordred received the biggest shock yet: the design on the back, an intricately carved tree, was utterly familiar to him- the tree that had reminded him of the forest in which he grew up; the presence of that tree against his chest had been reassuring as he navigated the unfamiliar world of Camelot's royal court. _Why is this here? Out of all the things he could've taken, this is one of them? _Mordred didn't know what to think, and realizing he'd already been gone too long, quickly replaced the clasp and dashed back out into the main room.

"Uh, I should probably go, it's getting late," he said upon reentering the room. Merlin looked up as if startled from some reverie.

"Oh. Okay, yeah." Getting up, Merlin walked to let Mordred out of the flat. "I'm glad you came by." The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Yeah, me too. Thanks for listening. Perhaps...perhaps one day you might be able to find a way to not dislike me again?" Mordred asked, slipping nervously back into the speech patterns of long ago. Merlin managed a slight smile as he opened the door.

"Yeah. Perhaps so." As he closed the door, he added in his mind, _Goodnight, Mordred._

_Goodnight, Emrys. _The door closed, and Mordred leaned back against the wall, letting out a deep breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. He could only manage one thought.

_Why do I think things just got a lot more complicated?_

**_Sooo... what do you think? I think this chapter made it fairly clear what's going on with these two- how do you feel about it? Neither man is especially good at keeping emotions beneath the surface for long- how long til that situation explodes? Kudos to those of you who guessed long ago that the clasp was Mordred's. Hope you enjoyed; as always, please read and review, and see you next chapter!_**


	17. And So She Weaveth Steadily

The art gallery wasn't too crowded today. A group of primary school children were clustered around on one side of the lower level, mostly paying attention to their guide but occasionally scuffling their shoes, whispering, and otherwise fidgeting. Across the floor from them stood an older couple, familiar to most of the staff and even some of the other regular patrons because they were so frequently there. Just barely visible from most vantage points, a few university art students leaned casually against the railing of the second-floor balcony. And meandering around the lower level was a handsome, tan young man who kept glancing around nervously even as he admired the works of art. As he passed by the elderly couple, the woman looked up and, recognizing him, called out in greeting.

"Hello, Lance! Back again so soon?" she asked affectionately as he leaned down obediently so she could kiss his cheek. Lancelot smiled.

"Yes, ma'am. I suppose I can't seem to stay away," he replied, shaking her husband's hand as he spoke.

"Well, we won't keep you, will we, Charles?" she addressed her husband. "You enjoy, and I'm sure we'll be seeing you again soon!"

"I certainly hope so, Mrs. Campbell. Have a good day!" Still smiling, Lancelot extricated himself from the friendly couple and resumed his not-so-subtle stride towards his real interest: the fiber art exhibit, from which he had so suddenly been pulled the other night after the memories of his old life had reawakened. Upon reaching the airy gallery space, he glanced around and found himself completely alone in the exhibit. _All the better, _he couldn't help thinking to himself. Abandoning all pretense, he only cast cursory glances at the other works as he walked directly up to the same pieces he had been admiring at the opening night event.

A beautifully woven tapestry hung, suspended in the air from nearly invisible clear wires, behind the main pedestal base for the display. The tapestry's colors were soft and subtle yet so realistic that Lancelot could swear the water was moving and the grass was blowing in a very slight breeze. Sitting on the display in front of the tapestry were the real master works, soft and delicate pieces depicting lilies of many sizes. Although the casual observer might not notice the differences between each lily, Lancelot knew how each individual flower was a slightly different shape, a slightly different shade; one was slightly lavender, another had shades of silver, and yet another was purest white. Approaching the display, Lancelot simply stood, peacefully lost in his own thoughts.

Just then, one of the gallery's employees walked in, a man about Lancelot's age who he knew to be one of the managers of the gallery. He seemed a little irritated, calling over his shoulder to another staff member as he came in.

"And tell Miss Rapunzel that no one cares if she wants to use hair in her pieces, but that she'd damn well better figure out a way to keep it from shedding all over the floor of my gallery! Or she can clean it up herself every night before she leaves!" The man shouted to another staff member as Lancelot turned to hide his smile. Being at the gallery so frequently, he'd come to recognize several of the workers there who were also artists, so he knew exactly the employee/artist whom the manager was despairing about- a rather eccentric woman on staff who liked to use unusual materials in her work and most recently had incorporated human hair- hence the manager's nickname for her. Sighing in exasperation, the manager suddenly turned and became aware of Lancelot's presence.

"Oh, you're back again! Still looking at those lilies? Y'know, the artist works here, she's an assistant curator," he offered, then smiled knowingly. "But why do I get the feeling you know that already?" Smirking, he strode towards the entrance to the exhibit, sticking his head out into an adjoining room and hailing another of his employees as she passed.

"Oi! Lily Maid! Someone's here who'd like to meet you!" Lancelot started, taken aback by the prospect of actually meeting the girl he'd only watched from afar, whose artwork had somehow drawn him in. _Pull it together, Lancelot. You've faced witches and fantastical monsters and armies of the undead- you can talk to a girl!_ He was unable to continue his nervous worrying any longer because she herself walked into the gallery, an expression of slight bemusement on her face, and he couldn't help staring just for a moment.

She was genuinely beautiful, a petite young woman with ivory-fair skin and glossy blonde hair that at the moment was pulled back in a sleek bun but that he knew was long and wavy when loose (she'd had her hair down the night of the gallery opening and it had taken his breath away). Dressed in the crisp black and white attire of the gallery staff, the stark colors only made her green eyes stand out more. As he watched her, he had no way of knowing that the slight blush on her cheeks was in fact his fault. The young artist, like others of her calling, was exceptionally observant and couldn't have failed to notice the handsome young man who frequented the gallery. And, having noticed him paying particular attention to the exhibition in which her work was in, she had allowed herself the brief fantasy that he was coming to see her work in particular- she hadn't dared hope that was actually true. But there he was.

"Right then. I'll leave you two to talk." The manager, brusque and sharp as he was, tossed a genuinely friendly smile towards the young woman before discreetly slipping away to leave the two alone. Lancelot shuffled slightly, looking for the words as she did the same. They both began to speak at once.

"So..." they both said, then broke off, laughing a bit embarrassedly. Blushing again, she gestured to Lancelot. "Go on, you go first," she offered. Lancelot cleared his throat and tried again.

"So, uh, you're the artist, then? I really like your work," he tried, inwardly cursing the banality of the words. But to his surprise, she positively lit up.

"Really?" she beamed. "I was so worried it would stand out in the wrong way. All the other artists have such sharp and chaotic pieces," she added, talking quickly and expertly as she gestured around to the exhibit around them. "But, I dunno, it just didn't feel right to me. That's not me," she explained, suddenly less nervous as she talked about the subject she knew best.

"No, no, it's really beautiful. That's what makes it different- that's why it's special. It's so..." Lancelot searched for the words to explain the appeal of her work to this beautiful artist. "It's peaceful, and longing, and sweet. It's not as cynical or inaccessible as some of the others, it tells of honor and love, and all that is good," he finally said. She looked up at him, astonished at how simply yet eloquently he'd gotten to the heart of the work.

"Yes. That's... yes, exactly!" she exclaimed, delighted. Lancelot grinned too, and she was struck by how the smile lit up his face, wiping away the strange air of melancholy that often crossed his features and leaving behind just a genuinely joyful young man.

"Have you always been an artist, or is this something new?" he asked, both truly interested in the answer to the question and also desperately hoping to extend their conversation as long as possible. She nodded.

"Ever since I was a little girl, I've been one of those artsy people, you know, always trying to make something or the other. My mom taught me to weave," she explained, gesturing at the tapestry, "and it just kind of snowballed from there. I learned to paint and draw and all that, but I guess it was always the different fiber mediums that really drew me. I don't know why, it just did. Anyways, that's what I studied at school, and then I got the job here so I could sort of have an "in" to this world," she finished.

"That's amazing, truly it is. You see things, you understand the world in a way that most people cannot," he said, not even bothering to conceal the admiration in his voice. She smiled, blushing slightly again. _He speaks so strangely, like he's from a different time, but somehow those words are exactly right._

"Um... Look, I know this is sort of strange, since we've only just met, but, uh, I was wondering if you might like to get coffee sometime, maybe one day when you don't have to work, or after work or something?" Lancelot finally managed to get out the words he'd been wanting to say.

She counted to five before responding, taking a moment to collect herself before tossing him a smile, surprising herself with her confident reply.

"I get off at three today. And there's a really great café just down the street, so..."

"So I'll come by at three, then," he finished, smiling in wonder. _After all that's happened, after all I've done, I didn't think I could possibly deserve to be happy. But perhaps this means I am forgiven._

"Great. See you then!" As she turned to walk away, Lancelot called after her.

"Wait!" She turned back around expectantly. He strode up to her, causing her breath to catch just slightly as he held out his hand. "We don't even know each other's names. Mine's Lance." With a smile, she placed her hand in his, both of them lingering a little longer than necessary.

"I'm Elaine."

"Alright then. See you later...Elaine."

_**So here it is, the new part of the legend I've been promising! If you aren't familiar with some versions of the original legends, here's the short version. Elaine of Astolat, also known as the Lady of Shalott or the Lily Maid of Astolat, was a noblewoman who loved Lancelot, but, when he left her for Guinevere, died of a broken heart. Alternately, in Tennyson's famous poem "The Lady of Shalott", she was cursed to remain in her ivory tower, where she wove constantly. But when she looked out the window and saw Camelot, she saw Lancelot and fell in love. So she left her tower knowing the curse would kill her but her love was too strong to ignore. She ended up dying, surrounded by lilies and floating on a barge down the river to Camelot, where the knights found her body and Lancelot prayed over her. So this Elaine is a much tougher modern version of the Lily Maid, but I had to throw in references (ie the weaving, the "Lily Maid" nickname), and of course her love for Lancelot will be a plot thread. So was this diversion from the main characters worth it? Please tell me in your reviews. Also, 75 reviews? You guys rock!**_


	18. Yes With All My Heart

Arthur paced anxiously, back and forth across the floor of his living room, occasionally casting glances at his phone or at a small box that sat on the table. Gwen was out for the afternoon, attending a guest lecture at the university. Which was just as well, because Arthur was in quite a state. Thoroughly unsettled, he had struggled for a minute, trying to decide what to do or who to speak to. Leon was a possibility. Gwaine meant well and was wiser than he looked, but wouldn't be right for this. Lancelot- besides still regaining the trust that had been wiped away by Morgana's dark magic, he was busy anyways, out yet again with the gentle and observant young artist he'd begun dating a few weeks ago. Finally, Arthur had a realization and wanted to smack himself for having taken so long to realize that he really only had one option.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Striding over, Arthur clicked open the lock and opened the door to find Merlin standing on the other side, phone still in his hand.

"You could've unlocked the door yourself and just come in, you know," he commented. Merlin's mouth fell open at the casualness in his tone, a far cry from what he'd been expecting.

"Hello, Merlin. Thanks for answering my panicked text, Merlin. Thanks for coming over right away and dropping whatever things you might have been dealing with to help me, Merlin. I really appreciate it," Merlin shot back sarcastically. "Oh, no problem, Arthur. Glad to help a friend out!" Arthur looked a little bit abashed.

"Sorry," he said, a little shamefaced. Figuring that was the best apology he was likely to get, Merlin dropped the sarcasm and shrugged.

"It's alright. Now, are _you _alright?" He reached out and put a hand on his best friend's shoulder, trying to get him to make eye contact.

"No...yes... I don't know!" Arthur threw his hands up, causing Merlin's hand to slip from his shoulder, then flopped dramatically onto the sofa. As Merlin joined him, his voice softened and his face fell. Reaching for the box on the table, he handed it to his longtime friend. "I got this today. For Guinevere. But... I just don't know anymore..." His voice trailed off as Merlin opened the little box, revealing a beautiful and elegant diamond ring inside. Merlin let out a low whistle as he looked at the glittering jewels.

"It's beautiful, Arthur. Who'd have thought you'd have good taste in jewelry?" Merlin attempted a joke to lighten Arthur's mood. For a moment, it seemed to work as the king reached out to affectionately smack Merlin on the head. But only moments later, his handsome features once again settled into a mask of melancholy and worry. "Arthur. Seriously, I don't see the problem here. Technically, you're already married- you've been married for centuries! Why should there be a problem with making it official in this day and age?" Arthur shifted, turning on the sofa so he could fully face the man whose advice he most trusted.

"But that's just the thing, Merlin. The last time I proposed to Guinevere, I was a king. I was King of Camelot, the ruler of the greatest kingdom in the known lands, a man who had proven himself on the throne and in battle. I could offer her the world. Now look at me. What am I? The son of a political family, trying to live up to the name and yet be my own man, with nothing proven, only left to be proven." He put his head in his hands, running his fingers anxiously through his golden hair. Merlin scooted a little closer and reached a tentative arm out, placing his hand on Arthur's back in a comforting gesture.

"You're still the same man, Arthur. Perhaps you have a new name and more years of history, but you can still offer Gwen the one thing she wants most. In fact, the only thing she ever wanted from you," he said. Arthur raised his head to meet Merlin's eyes.

"And what is that?" he asked, still sounding worried and dejected. Merlin smiled.

"You love her. More than anything else in the world, you love Guinevere. And as long as you're together, you two can conquer anything- believe me, I've seen it! With her at your side, you cannot fail," he reassured, simply and matter-of-factly. To his relief, after a long silence, Arthur looked up again. This time, his blue eyes were clearer, alight with hope and purpose.

"I never thought of that. But you're right. How did you ever get so wise, Merlin?" he teased, nudging his friend in the ribs. Merlin laughed.

"I don't know about that- seems lately like I'm not that insightful after all," he muttered, half to himself. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for him, Arthur was still paying attention and pounced on that comment.

"What do you mean by that?" When Merlin just shook his head, Arthur pressed on, this time putting his hand on Merlin's shoulder. "_Mer_lin. Let me try to help you, for a change." Merlin cleared his throat awkwardly as Arthur shifted uncomfortably; emotional revelations had never been either of their strongest points. A thought suddenly occurred to Arthur. "Wait...is it a girl? It is, isn't it?" Merlin shook his head again, but Arthur could read his friend's expressions well and crowed, "It is! Ha! I knew it! All right, I spill my guts to you often enough, your turn!"

"It's not a girl," Merlin managed to get out, burying his head in his hands. Still grinning, Arthur clapped him on the back.

"Sure it isn't. All right, I'll play along. What is it then?" When Merlin still wouldn't respond, Arthur's smile dropped just a little in actual concern. "Merlin?"

"It's a _guy!_" Merlin finally burst out. Even in his frustrated state, the warlock couldn't help taking a little pleasure in the expression of pure shock that crossed his best friend's face at his exclamation.

"Uhhh..." Arthur didn't know what to say. Over the years, he'd learned to expect the unexpected as far as Merlin was concerned, but this took unexpected to a whole new level. "I, uh, I never knew you were..." he trailed off, uncertain exactly how to finish that sentence.

"Bi, Arthur, the term is 'bi'!" Merlin exclaimed impatiently, turning a faint shade of pink as he threw his hands up in exasperation. Arthur tried to act normal, but there was one question he couldn't help wondering about.

"Hang on a minute!" he cried imperiously, pointing a finger at Merlin. "All those years, you were my servant, you...helped me with...things...Did you ever, you know... have...feelings for me?" he asked, feeling incredibly awkward yet trying to hide behind a kingly, demanding behavior. At that question, Merlin began to shake, his head still in his hands. Arthur panicked. _Oh hell. Did he? Is he...did I actually make him cry? _Suddenly, the king heard a decidedly not-crying sound emerge from the dark-haired man next to him. Merlin finally looked up at him, tears of laughter at the corners of his eyes._  
_

"Arrogant prat. Of course you'd think that," he gasped out, still rocked by laughter. At Arthur's thoroughly confused expression, Merlin only laughed harder, before finally trying to regain some composure. "No. Definitely not. Arthur, I love you, but _not _like that. You aren't really my type." Realizing exactly what had slipped out in his laughter, Merlin tried to play it down, hoping Arthur hadn't noticed his confession- although Merlin had gotten more comfortable with emotions by virtue of living for so long, he had a feeling the other man might not have.

"Right. So now that's out of the way- why don't you tell me about this other guy? Come on, Merlin!" Arthur wheedled playfully.

"He's...handsome, that's for sure. Absolutely brilliant, has a wicked sense of humor. But...I don't know, it's...well, saying it's complicated would be the understatement of the century," Merlin finally admitted. For a moment, Arthur just sat there, contemplating what to say. _I've never been very good at giving advice- that was always Merlin, and Guinevere. _Then, remembering some advice he'd received long ago, he turned back to his friend.

"Merlin, do you remember a long time ago, when I didn't know what to do or how to admit how I felt about Gwen?" he asked. Merlin nodded, so he continued. "You told me- well, forced me more like it- to just admit it, told me that I was a fool if I let the chance to be with her slip away. As I recall, you made that clear to me on numerous occasions," he added dryly, remembering how his servant had acted as a bit of a matchmaker and go-between when the prince and the serving girl were just beginning their relationship. "So, I'd give you the same advice now. Whoever this man is, I think you're an idiot if you don't at least try."

"I thought you already thought I was an idiot," Merlin commented sarcastically. Arthur briefly headlocked him, causing the pinned warlock to lightly shove him away with a flash of gold in his eyes.

"Hey! No fair using magic!" Arthur exclaimed indignantly before both men burst into laughter. Regaining some composure, Merlin looked at Arthur.

"Thanks," he said simply. Just then, the lock clicked and the door swung open as Gwen returned home. Glancing at the little box, then at Arthur meaningfully, Merlin got up with a sigh. "That's my cue, I think. Gwen, he's all yours." With a subtle flash of his eyes, the candles set around the room suddenly sprang to light. "See you in class," he said, dropping a quick kiss on her cheek and clapping Arthur on the shoulder. Just as he reached the door, Arthur called out to him.

"Thanks for the advice. And Merlin?"

"Yeah?"

"What you said, earlier? I, uh, well... Same here," he finally managed to say. As two pairs of blue-gray eyes locked just for a moment, they nodded in a brief moment of shared understanding before the warlock exited, leaving the king alone with his queen.

"What was that all about?" Gwen asked casually, setting her purse down on the counter with her back to Arthur, the light from the setting sun streaming in through the window on her hair.

"I just needed to talk to someone before I did something," he replied.

"Really? What?"

"This." Something in his tone made Gwen turn around. The sight that greeted her made her gasp. Arthur was on one knee before her, holding out a little box that was opened to reveal a glittering and elegant diamond ring. "Gwen, we've been through so much. So, so much. And I know the last time I asked you this, I had so much more to offer- I had a whole kingdom to make you queen of, and now, well, not so much. Everything is so different. But one thing hasn't changed. I love you, completely. As I always have. I told you once that I just can't bear to lose you ever again. And after all this, I think that's more true than ever." With the hand that was not holding the ring, he reached out to take hers. "Guinevere, will you marry me?" he asked simply.

Gwen's heart felt near to overflowing with joy and love for the true love of her life- or, rather, lives. Unable to talk for a moment, she just nodded, smiling and trying to hold back tears. With a boyish grin, Arthur bounded to his feet, then gently slid the ring onto her finger. Then he pulled her close and kissed her deeply, his hands knotting in her long hair and her arms locked around his neck, with the last light of the day surrounding them. As their eyes met when they slightly broke apart, Gwen knew exactly what to say.

"Yes. Yes, with all my heart."

**_Aww! I've been looking forward to writing Arthur's new proposal to Gwen for a long time- how did I do? We also got one of Arthur and Merlin's trademark conversations that blends sarcasm with genuine emotional content, as well as the admittance that they are in fact incredibly important to each other, which I feel they might be willing to say after all they've been through as a pair by this point. Coming next chapter: another scene I've been eagerly anticipating writing for quite some time now :) Please review, and, as always, thank you for coming on this journey with me!_**


	19. Blue and Gold

Mordred stood outside the door, fuming and with an entire array of emotions storming through him. The past month had been a roller coaster ride, to say the least. Upon finally being allowed back within the inner circle of the Round Table, he had ended up in a so-called "undercover" role as an intern on Arthur's campaign. But no one was under any illusions that he was there for any other reason than for Arthur (and, more importantly, Merlin) to keep a close eye on him. _They all still think I'm going to go off the deep end and betray them again, _he thought bitterly. Lancelot had been kind to him, treating him with the same calm and respect as all the other knights. It had only been in the past week or so that some of the others, Gwaine in particular, had begun to resume their previous treatment of him as the little brother of the Round Table- someone to be mocked a little, but someone to be respected and liked nonetheless.

The upside to working Arthur's campaign, he thought, was that he was getting the chance to prove his loyalty and worth to his king, to devote his life to helping and protecting the man he had betrayed in an attempt to make amends for the wrongs of the past. At first, Arthur had been a little cold and definitely distant- a far cry from the man who had personally taken him under his wing when the younger man first arrived in Camelot. But as the weeks wore on, he had begun to shift, asking Mordred to perform more important tasks, asking his advice and actually taking it, and even betraying occasional signs of affection as he once had. When Mordred had managed not only to talk down a supporter who was threatening to leave but actually get him to increase his financial support, the onetime king had wrapped him in a one-armed hug before thanking him, a note of admiration and pride in the older man's voice. And, Mordred couldn't help feeling, it wasn't entirely bad to be around Merlin more often. His attempts to prove himself to the warlock were equal to those he made towards his king. And sometimes, it seemed to be working. When they'd pass in the hallways, his greetings would sometimes be rewarded with a quick smile. On the best days, he'd hear a voice echoing in his head with some joke or greeting, or sometimes just an incline of the head as he heard, _Mordred_ echo in his head- always returned with a smile and a _Merlin. _

But then, it seemed sometimes as if he'd made no progress at all. It was clear that, even on his friendliest days, Merlin didn't trust him in the slightest. Whenever they were both around Arthur, Mordred noticed- with great irritation- how Merlin positioned himself just to Arthur's side, poised and defensive. Like others of his kind, the druid was particularly receptive to the fluctuating emotions and moods of those around him, so he had a way of telling when Merlin was wary of him- which was always. He'd thought, after their conversation that night, that things might change, that he might have begun to convince the powerful man of his true loyalties. And then... _And then there was the clasp_, he couldn't help remembering at the most inopportune moments. _Why did he keep that? _Mordred did not dare to hope what that might mean.

Today, however, had been the last straw. Although he had learned to keep it in check, Mordred still had quite a fiery temper beneath his usual steely (though boyish) exterior, and that day's events had sent him over the edge. For a man like Arthur, with all his family connections, daily life could always be potentially dangerous; there were enemies he didn't even know he had. That afternoon, Arthur had been walking back to the office from a coffee shop, accompanied by Gwen, Merlin, and Mordred as they made their way through the crowded street. Mordred had sensed a sudden spike of anger nearby, but before he could call out to the others- or even warn Merlin telepathically- a man had leapt towards Arthur with a gun drawn and an expression of twisted fury on his face, shouting about how Arthur's father had ruined his life and how he was going to make Arthur pay for that. As Arthur pulled Gwen behind him, Merlin moved to protect them both. But even faster than Merlin could move, a blur had jumped in front of the man, grabbed the gun, and swiftly disarmed him, turning the gun on the would-be shooter. Mordred had stood there, breathing hard, with a look of icy steel in his blue eyes. Terrified, the man had fled back into the crowds. Gwen had gently approached the young druid and taken the gun from him, while Arthur hugged him impulsively in gratitude. Mordred couldn't help feeling a little satisfied. _I have put my life between death and Arthur again- perhaps now they will trust me again. _But when he met Merlin's eyes, there was no gratitude or kindness- only a flicker of something indescribable, then a cold stare and the words, _Go home, Mordred. I'll take Arthur and Gwen back to their home. Go. _

Now Mordred had finally had enough of the inexplicable behavior from the warlock and was finally angry enough to confront him. So that evening, he had taken a cab and now stood outside Merlin's door, waiting for him to answer the knock. When Merlin opened the door, his face briefly betrayed his shock before settling back into the cool and passive mask that so frustrated Mordred.

"Mordred? What are you doing here? It's late," he asked. Pushing his way into the apartment, Mordred rounded furiously on the other man.

"What do I have to do, huh? What the _hell _was that about today? I saved Arthur's _life- again- _and then you act like you're mad at _me? _What, were you scared because I had a gun? Worried what I'd do? I can't believe by now you still think I'd do anything to hurt him- or any of you! This is really getting old, Emrys. Are you _ever _going to trust me?"he shouted angrily, startling the older man for a moment. Merlin quickly regained his composure, a slow flush of anger starting to creep onto his face too.

"And why should I? Don't you think I have just the slightest reason not to? After what happened last time?" he shot back.

"I jumped in front of a gun for Arthur today! I disarmed that man without even using magic!"

"And you shouldn't have done that!" Merlin cried out. "Why would you do something stupid like that? He could've killed you!" Mordred caught that same flash of something unfamiliar in the warlock's eyes, and suddenly had a thought.

"Wait...why do you care? If you don't trust me, if you don't like me, then why would you even give a damn if I live or die?" Merlin didn't answer or even meet the younger man's gaze. That was the wrong move, as all it did was spark a fresh wave of angry emotion within Mordred. "Then what about the clasp?" Mordred was satisfied to see the color drain from the other man's face at that.

"How did you..."

"The other night, I went in the wrong door looking for your bathroom. Found it on your nightstand. And couldn't for the life of me figure out why you would keep a personal object from a man you hated. You do something like that, then you treat me like you can't stand the sight of me!"

"I don't..." Merlin broke off, unable to find the right words, then finally looking at Mordred with an unfamiliar look in his eyes. "What do you want from me, Mordred?" All the emotions of the confrontation finally broke a dam within the druid man. Suddenly reckless, a strange, daring fire leapt into his blue eyes as he crossed the space between them, more quickly than he ever thought possible.

"This." With that, Mordred reached out, with one hand on Merlin's neck and the other on his shoulder, and pressed their lips together. He felt the warlock tense suddenly, unmoving and unresponsive to Mordred's kiss. Then, to Mordred's shock and joy, he felt the older man's lips move against his own in response. As the kiss deepened, the pair backed up until Mordred had Merlin pinned against the wall, the spark of magic from each of the magicians meeting as their lips did. As the men broke apart, gasping for air, Mordred managed to gasp out, "Merlin."

The sound of his name, his real name, on the younger man's lips was too much for Merlin. With a growl and a fierce look unlike anything Mordred had ever seen in the calm warlock's face before, he suddenly flipped them around so that it was Mordred who was pinned against the wall as they pressed ever closer together, Mordred's arms wrapped around Merlin and Merlin's hands knotting in Mordred's dark curls. It wasn't long before both of them realized there was much more they wanted.

_Come with me. _Mordred heard Merlin's voice in his head, tinged a little darker with passion, as the older man broke away and began to walk down the hall. Still unable to believe what was happening, he obeyed, following into Merlin's room. From there, things progressed much faster than Mordred could have imagined (and, quite frankly, more than Merlin could have ever thought as well). _Thank heavens for magic, _Merlin thought dryly; having been alone for so long, certain "essentials" were missing from his nightstand. When Merlin hovered above him, Mordred suddenly reached out with his mind again.

_Merlin. Wait. _The warlock sat back on his heels for a moment.

_What is it? Do you not want this? _

_No, no, I do. _He punctuated his assertion by reaching out to gently cup Merlin's cheek. _I want to try something I heard tale of among my people, long ago. When two magic users chose to be together in every way, they also joined minds and allowed the magic within them to surround them and spark together. Can you...can you trust me enough to do that? _Merlin nodded before resuming his original position and capturing Mordred's lips with his own. Reaching out for the druid's mind with his own, he slipped past the mental barriers and was surprised by the light he found there. Judging by Mordred's expression, he was having the same reaction.

_Gold, _Mordred marveled. _It's all gold, like sunlight. _Merlin smiled.

_And you, yours is blue. Blue like your eyes. _As they moved together, the spark of magic within each of them also crossed, forging a bond between their two minds unlike anything either had known before as they both had the same thought at once.

_I'm not alone. Not anymore._

**_Well then! About time these two acted on their feelings, don't you think? I could see Merlin being conflicted between worry about Mordred's life and anger at himself for caring at all. But after all both of them have been through, they deserve a love who is their equal. I've been working on getting this chapter right for a while, knowing it was coming up- what did you think? Special thanks this chapter to _Agana of the night, starglen, _and _TheAlienDoctor _for your wonderful recent reviews! Hope you enjoy this quick update and see you soon!_  
**


	20. Election Night

_One month later_

After a campaign that had exhausted them all, election night was finally upon them. Because the group had supported each other ever since that fateful day of awakening, they set up a single election headquarters for the evening. As they waited for results to come in, the reincarnated knights-turned-politicians mingled with each other and with their staffs, everyone trying not to show their nerves. In one corner, Elyan and Leon were making the rounds, shaking hands with their staffers and thanking each one by name. Across the hall, Gwaine tossed back a quick drink before meandering over to the food table and grabbing an apple to casually munch on as he strolled around. Percival stood slightly removed from the crowd until Lancelot, hand-in-hand with Elaine, approached him. From a distance, Merlin and Mordred smiled to see the petite blonde artist ask something of the big man that made him blush.

_Probably wants to paint his portrait now too,_ Mordred silently commented. Merlin chortled, recalling how Lancelot's new girlfriend had somehow wheedled every one of them into sitting for portraits in various mediums for her to practice. Without once breaking her gentle manner, Elaine had managed to seem determined, vaguely threatening, and entirely sweet all at once. Knowing when they were defeated, the men had given in- much to Gwen's amusement.

Speaking of the queen, she was- where else?- at Arthur's side, a constant and reassuring presence for the onetime king as he hoped for the chance to begin serving people as he had been brought up to do. At the moment, the young couple was talking to another couple- a pair of wealthy donors who had backed Arthur from the start. Seeing his friend standing tall and proud, Gwen at his side, made Merlin smile and relax just slightly at the familiar and comforting sight. Turning his back on the room, the warlock looked happily at his boyfriend, who followed suit before reaching for to entwine their hands.

"So...Now that the election is over, d'you think it'd be alright to tell the others about us?" Mordred asked softly, careful not to be overheard. Merlin didn't answer right away.

"Yeah, I suppose so," he said hesitantly, slightly rubbing his thumb over his lover's hand. "I hope...I hope it doesn't freak them out too much. With our history, you know, they might worry." It was a sign of how far Mordred had come that his face didn't darken at those words. Instead, he calmly let out a breath, counted to three, then replied.

"I know. But, we've got to tell them sometime. We're happy, aren't we? We're making progress?" Merlin nodded. "They're our friends, Merlin. Not just yours anymore, but mine too. We tell them. Very soon." Even though his tone was neutral, there was still that undercurrent of steel that Merlin both loved and recognized as a reminder that Mordred was still a powerful and potentially dangerous man.

"You're right. Of course. We'll tell them." Just then, Merlin spotted Gwaine heading their way. Wanting a moment with his old friend, he turned to back to Mordred. "Hey, I'm gonna go talk to Gwaine for a few, make sure he stays away from the bar, you know." Mordred grinned.

"All right, talk to you later." As Merlin turned to go, Mordred glanced around, then telepathically called out, _Hey._

_What?_ Merlin turned back to see a mischievous gleam in the younger man's eyes. Before he could react further, Mordred had closed the space between them and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. _That's all_, his voice echoed innocently in Merlin's head.

_Cheeky. Better hope no one saw that. _Merlin replied, trying and failing to be indignant. Mordred's face split into a beaming, boyish grin that suddenly slid off his face as he spotted something over Merlin's shoulder.

_Oh, hell. _Paling, Merlin slowly turned to see what had caused Mordred to react that way. His heart suddenly dropped as he saw Arthur, halfway across the large room, staring at the two of them with an expression of utter shock mixed with the tiniest bit of horror.

_Oh hell is right. I better go talk to him._ Merlin moved to walk towards the king, but was surprised to feel a hand restraining him.

"No, let me. I mean, obviously you two will need to talk too. But, uh, I think he and I should talk. Probably should've long ago. And this seems as good a chance as any," Mordred explained. After a pause, Merlin finally nodded his assent and gestured for Mordred to go ahead.

Approaching Arthur, Mordred quietly said, "We should probably talk." The blond man nodded, turning and walking towards a quieter corner of the room, where he and Mordred awkwardly sat down half-facing each other. Arthur didn't speak, waiting instead for the druid to break the silence.

"Alright. Uh...Look, I know this is probably really weird for you. You're probably worried about Merlin now- even if you won't admit it. And I know you probably don't trust me still. But," he turned so he could look Arthur squarely in the eye, "you should know that I won't hurt him. I couldn't. Not now. Never again." Despite the sincerity in Mordred's eyes, Arthur couldn't help still being wary.

"I know you believe that, Mordred. I do. But, I can't help remembering that you felt this way once before. You were my most loyal knight, Mordred, my protégée. And yet you betrayed us all. How am I supposed to forget that?" A flicker of anger suddenly sparked in the young knight's eyes.

"I did betray you. But did you ever consider that it was not without reason?" In his emotion, Mordred slipped once more into his speech patterns of old. "All my life, I wanted nothing more than to belong. I was only a boy when I saw my family killed; I was a_ boy_ the first time someone tried to kill me. And as I grew up, I never really belonged anywhere. When I met Morgana again, I thought perhaps we could be each other's family- but then I saw that the kind woman who protected me was gone, replaced by a mad, bitter shell. And then you showed up. And you too were different from what I remembered- but in a good way. The uncertain man who grudgingly helped rescue me was now a man with true nobility and a calm compassion, even in the face of death. I chose your side. And in Camelot, I finally found somewhere I could belong, somewhere that accepted me, even if I had to hide my magic. But then..." his voice broke for a moment before he resumed speaking, his Welsh accent becoming more pronounced as he became more emotional, "then you brushed me off, made it seem that my opinions and feelings didn't matter in the slightest."

"She was a traitor, Mordred. She tried to _kill _me!" Arthur exclaimed. "I had no choice!" Mordred's eyes flashed.

"You said I'd get over it. I suppose I could have expected your decision," he admitted, calming slightly as he considered the truth of Arthur's choice. "But what I could never have expected was your...coldness, your flippancy! If our positions had been reversed, if it had been Queen Guinevere and you knew she had done what she was accused of but you loved her nonetheless, how would you have felt?" Arthur took these words like a punch in the stomach, recalling a time in which his Guinevere had in fact been sentenced to die, though she had not committed the offense. Seeing this, Mordred softened his tone slightly, though the underlying steel remained. "It was your lack of compassion, Arthur. You made me feel worthless, like I was not actually a valued member of your court. You betrayed the trust I put in you." Arthur looked at the young man, admiring his willingness to open up in this way.

"And for that, I am truly sorry," Arthur replied, gently placing a hand on Mordred's arm and feeling relief when he did not push him away. "But Mordred? I think perhaps you too forgot things. You swore loyalty to me and to the good of Camelot, yet you would have defended one who valued none of that for the sake of emotions. I do not say your feelings were wrong, only that perhaps you let them overwhelm your good judgment. Do you understand?" Mordred nodded.

"Arthur?"

"Yeah?"

"This is going to sound quite ridiculous but...I'm sorry I, uh, I'm sorry I killed you," Mordred said, unable to entirely conceal his smile at the oddness of his words. The smile faded as he continued seriously, "I was then too, you know. The moment the blade hit you, I knew I had done the wrong thing. When you killed me, I suppose I almost felt relief. That I wouldn't have to live with that, and that your death had been avenged in a way. I mean, when I...uh, reincarnated..." he trailed off, again feeling the strangeness of their conversation, "a lot of that was gone again. I think because of the life I led here before I woke up, all I really remembered feeling was the rage and the betrayal. But when Merlin reminded me...well, it all came back. So, it will never be enough, but, as I said before, I will do all I can to make amends for what happened and what I did." Finishing his confession, Mordred looked down. To his eternal relief, he felt a firm hand upon his shoulder as Arthur forced him to look at him again.

"And as I said before, you are forgiven." He grinned, which relaxed Mordred enough to smile in return. "But," the king added as he turned to walk away, "hurt Merlin, and nothing is off limits. Understood?" Mordred grinned saucily.

"You really do love him too," he teased. Arthur's face turned serious.

"Tell him that and you die," he replied, a dark tone in his voice but a merry grin crossing his face a moment later.

* * *

"So. That's the guy. You and Mordred." Arthur said, slipping into a chair next to Merlin. The warlock grimaced slightly.

"Yeah. Me and Mordred. This must be really strange for you," he commented. Arthur turned to look at his friend, eyebrows raised.

"Merlin. Let's see- I'm an ancient king who has been reincarnated along with my wife and my closest friends. My best friend is a centuries-old, legendarily powerful warlock, and now I find out he is dating my magic-wielding reformed murderer who has been similarly reincarnated. Strange is my normal these days," he replied dryly. Upon noticing Merlin's still-worried expression, he bumped the other man's shoulder with his own affectionately. "So if you trust him enough, then that's good enough for me. Just...be careful, alright?" Merlin's face broke into a grin.

"Never thought you'd care about my love life, Arthur," he noticed, grinning triumphantly. Arthur looked straight ahead.

"Yeah, well. Can't have you moping about- it'd be annoying." Merlin returned the shoulder bump and sat with Arthur until the results began to come in.

* * *

"Congratulations, love. I'm so proud of you, Arthur, I really am," Gwen said, leaning over to kiss her fiancé as he turned to her after switching off the lamp on his nightstand. Arthur happily kissed her back before settling back into the pillows, one arm wrapped around Gwen as she laid her head on his chest and took his free hand in hers.

"And I never could've done it without you, my Guinevere."

"So...now what?" she asked sleepily, snuggling a bit closer into his shoulder.

"We start work again, I suppose. Do our best to serve the people, as we always have sworn to do. But for now, we sleep." Pressing a kiss into his queen's dark curly hair, he pulled her close and did just that.

* * *

"So...that was quite a night," Mordred commented from just outside the doorway, pulling a blue T-shirt on as he entered the bedroom. "Every single one of them got a seat. And Leon and Gwaine are lords- heaven help us," he added dryly as he climbed into bed.

"Yeah." Noticing a slightly sober expression on the warlock's face, Mordred leaned over and captured his lover's lips in his before sliding under the sheets. Merlin couldn't suppress a smile, although it faded faster than Mordred would've liked.

"What? Tired of kissing me already?" the younger man teased, trying to lighten the mood. Merlin rolled so that they were both on their sides, facing each other.

"No, never," he said, gently intertwining their hands between their chests. "I dunno...I just feel... I keep feeling like-"

"Like something's coming, something's just...wrong," Mordred finished, a low and serious tone in his voice.

"You felt it too?" Mordred nodded, and Merlin sighed. "Great. That can't be good. Why can't things just be easy?" he complained, rolling back to face away from the other man in his bed. The bed shifted and Merlin felt an arm snake around his waist and a breath at his ear.

"Some things are," the druid whispered softly.

"Yeah, like what?"

"Like this." Sweetly and gently, Mordred turned Merlin's face to his to brush a kiss against his lips before they settled into each other's arms and tried to put off dealing with their sense of foreboding, at least until they could get some sleep.

**_Sorry this chapter's a bit longer, but there was a lot I wanted to get in. So the two powerful magic users have a sense that something's off- that can't be good. The Round Table is now in positions of power and government- yay for them! Plus snippets of Arwen, Merdred, and Lancelot/Elaine (Elancelot? Lancelaine?) as well as some humor from Arthur and Merlin. I have to send immense gratitude to _starglen _this chapter, for suggesting that Mordred and Arthur needed a heart-to-heart; I finally gave in and went to read why Mordred turned evil (so I read up to 5x11), for the sake of this chapter, even though the rest of S5 won't air here in the US til May :( This chapter would've been up yesterday but there was a minor meltdown in another of my fandoms over some spoilers courtesy of leaked soundtrack song titles, so I was wrapped up in that. Thanks as always for reading and reviewing!_**


	21. Long Live the King and Queen

Merlin slipped into his now-familiar seat at the Round Table, brushing a bit of dust off the ancient stone seat as he sat down. Glancing around, he couldn't help but be amazed at how far the little group around the table had come in a few short months. Mordred sat across the table, laughing at something Gwaine had just said. Leon, Elyan, and Percival were not-so-subtly playing cards as they waited for the king and queen. And, most surprisingly of all, Lancelot no longer sat alone, but had Elaine at his side. A month or so after the elections, the knight had brought his request to let her in on their secret, which the group had unanimously decided to grant. To everyone's surprise, the little artist had taken the news quite well. After the initial shock, which was to be expected, it had only taken a brief display of magic from Merlin and Mordred to convince her that there was a whole different world that she had just become a part of. Today was the first meeting of the Round Table since she had become one of them, so it was her first day in the citadel. Now she sat, in the extra seat Merlin had magicked up for her, gazing at everything around her with the wonder and thoughtful eye of an artist.

Finally, Arthur and Gwen entered the room, causing all the others to quickly rise before they all sat down together. Unfortunately, this was not a particularly interesting meeting. They met as often as they could manage, just to keep tabs on what was going on and continue to ensure their efforts were all coordinated. Arthur had risen to a post in the cabinet, as an undersecretary in the ministry of defense, courtesy of some old, very powerful friends of his family's. Although he had been initially reluctant to accept, Gwen and Merlin convinced him that gaining a foothold, however slight, was a good thing for achieving their goals of actually having some effect on caring for the people of the land. Oddly enough, the position suited him (although the king in him was impatient at the relative lowliness of his work and influence) and he was rapidly becoming quite popular within their party.

As the king brought up the various dull points of discussion, the knights struggled to pay attention. Gwaine was just about to nod off when a slight movement caught his eye- Mordred, shifting awkwardly in his seat. Suddenly, the young knight's body tensed up, and Gwaine could tell he was fighting to stay as still as possible. Unluckily for Mordred, Arthur had noticed him too.

"Mordred? Are you alright?" he asked. Mordred gritted his teeth and turned a small smile to the blond man.

"Yes, milord. Just a little cramp from the other day. Don't worry, Arthur, go on," he replied. Shrugging, Arthur returned to the matters at hand, but Gwaine noticed another slight movement, this time from the warlock at Arthur's right hand. For a fleeting moment, Gwaine was sure he saw a smirk flash across his friend's face before returning to pretending to pay attention. _What's that about?_ he wondered.

After the meeting ended and everyone was milling about before they left, Gwaine grabbed Merlin's arm as he passed.

"All right, Merlin, spill. What in God's name were you doing back there that had young Mordred so tense?" he asked. "And don't deny it- I saw you smirking when Arthur called him on it, and I'm certain a little prank is something your magic could easily handle. So...what did you do?" The knight was surprised to see a slow, almost naughty grin spread across the warlock's face.

"I've told you magic users can communicate with their minds, right? Well, Mordred and I discovered that, for magic users who are personally close, like friends or family-"

"Or lovers," Gwaine interrupted with a grin.

"Or lovers," Merlin agreed with only a slight blush before continuing, "that the telepathy can extend beyond just words. One can project images, sensory feelings, sometimes emotions, memories, all of that, to share with the person on the other end of the telepathic bond. And the receiving person will see or hear or feel whatever is being sent- and, a memory, for instance, would come across even stronger if the memory is shared by them both." Gwaine still didn't understand, his brow creasing in confusion as Merlin's smirk only widened. "Oh, come on, Gwaine. You of all people should figure this out. What shared, sensory memory could I possibly have made Mordred experience that would make him react like that?" Finally, Gwaine understood, blushing at first, then guffawing and clapping his old friend on the back. Just then, Mordred passed by the two of them.

"See you at home, then, Merlin?" he asked, smiling sweetly. Merlin nodded, trying to hold back his laughter. As his lover turned to walk away, he heard his voice echo in his head, in a sweet and dangerous tone like poisoned honey. _You're going to pay for that one, Emrys._

* * *

"Mordred!" Merlin exclaimed, gasping for breath. With a wicked smirk and a mischievous spark dancing in his eyes, Mordred rolled off him and flopped on his side to face the other man.

"Told you I'd make you pay for earlier, now didn't I?" he asked, the exertions of moments before lingering in the dark gleam still noticeable in his clear blue eyes. Merlin rolled his eyes before reaching out to push a damp curl out of the younger man's face.

"You certainly did," he admitted. Both shifted to curl into a more comfortable position for sleeping.

"Merlin?" Mordred asked into his lover's hair.

"Hm?"

"Do you still feel, I dunno, a bit odd?" he asked, a worried look creasing his young face. Merlin twisted to look at him.

"Yeah," he admitted. "You?" Mordred nodded.

"Even more so."

* * *

A week later, a lovely church was hosting the surprisingly small (though not so surprisingly for those who knew the couple) wedding. Despite his family's wealth and prominence, Arthur insisted (and Gwen agreed) that they act like any other couple and have a moderate, elegant ceremony.

"After all, love," Gwen had said one night as they discussed it (well, sort of), winding her hand through the gold hair she loved, "haven't we already done the big wedding thing?" As Arthur chuckled, she could feel his laughter reverberate through both their bodies.

"I suppose nothing can be quite as big as having an entire kingdom celebrating one's weddding," he teased. "Honestly, Guinevere, I couldn't care less. As long as you're at the end of that aisle, I don't care who's sitting along it or where it is."

And so it was that Arthur stood at the front of the church, Merlin at his side and Leon just a little further away, waiting nervously. Elaine entered, the maid of honor, followed by Sarah, Gwen's closest friend from school. As the music swelled, Merlin clapped a hand on Arthur's arm and gave him a reassuring smile. Arthur turned away to avoid the temptation to look at the sight he knew was drawing the attention of everyone else: his Guinevere, dressed all in white, walking towards him on Elyan's arm. Finally, he couldn't resist anymore and turned around moments before she arrived at his side. And the sight took his breath away. Gwen's sleeveless gown gleamed with lace, both modern and classic at once, and her veil held on with a small, sparkling tiara. She had obediently followed the old adage for brides: her dress was new, while the amethyst necklace she wore was older than anyone could imagine. She had borrowed the tiara from Elaine, and the knights had each given her a blue ribbon, which Mordred and Merlin had magically woven into a little patch and attached it to the underskirt of her gown. Smiling, Elyan kissed his sister's cheek, placed her hand in Arthur's, and went to stand off to the side as the king and queen once again vowed to love and honor each other all the days of their lives. As they sealed their vows with a kiss, the church broke into cheers- none louder than Merlin.

* * *

"And so you are bound once more, your lives and souls forever entwined. May you have much joy," Merlin concluded. With a flash of gold from his eyes, the thin golden thread of magic woven around Arthur and Gwen's joined hands flared brightly before fading to nothing. The group stood near the lake of Avalon, concluding a private ceremony just for the Round Table. Merlin had offered to perform a second ceremony after their "real" one, a more ancient ritual that would resemble their first wedding as well as elements of the Druids' powerful magical rites of binding. As they had earlier that day, the couple slid into each other's embrace, which deepened until Gwaine wolf-whistled. Breaking apart, Arthur and Gwen blushed slightly as they turned to accept their friends' congratulations. Each knight placed a kiss on Gwen's cheek: some grinning widely like Gwaine, others with brotherly devotion like Leon, and even Lancelot, who whispered in her ear, "We're both so happy now- I couldn't be more glad." Arthur shook each of their hands, but affectionately pulled Merlin into a quick hug and muttered his thanks for all that had been done. As they finally stood again, unconsciously moving into a rough circle, Merlin raised the cry, which the others quickly took up.

"Long live the King! Long live the Queen!"

* * *

Elaine tossed and turned in bed, having a hard time getting to sleep despite the reassuring presence of her beloved knight's arm around her slim waist. When she finally did doze off, her sleep was fraught with images ranging from the emotionally draining to the truly terrifying.

_Flashes of the man who lay beside her, only in a different day and age. And he wasn't alone- in every scene, every moment, another familiar face appeared as well. It was like watching a love montage in a terrible movie, only this one wasn't just fiction. _You'll always be second best, _whispered the eerie and seductive voice that invariably accompanied these dreams. _Why give your loyalty and your heart to one who will always belong to another, whose name will never be uttered without being paired with hers? _More images flashed, now with many more familiar faces. The knights, laughing and cheerfully goofing off in a way that was utterly timeless. The king and queen, with the warlock just behind, sharing in feasts with their friends. In all these scenes, it was clear that this was a family, born out of bonds of shared battle, shared joys, and most of all, shared love. _And you will always be the outsider, O Lily Maid, _the voice murmured. _

_And as they always did, the dreams ended with a flashing series of images. A dark and eerie tower, smoke and flame on a battlefield, a gleaming city that looked so familiar in ash and ruin, a face that was cruel and beautiful all at once, and a river, a peaceful yet frightening river filled with the lilies she loved._

Waking with a start, she cried out, waking her bedmate. Gently, Lancelot reached over and wrapped her in his arms. Holding her close to his chest as he always did, the knight rubbed her back and stroked her long blonde hair, damp with the sweat from her nightmare, and whispered soothing words in her ear until she finally managed to drift back to a more peaceful sleep.

**_Lots going on in this chapter! I hope you all like Arthur and Gwen's wedding(s); I wanted to show it briefly but I couldn't imagine anything better than Gwen's coronation in 4x13 so I left it short and sweet. A little naughty humor courtesy of Merlin and Mordred- that's a moment I actually imagined way back when I started the story! And Elaine's dreams...Shout out again to _starglen _in this chapter for being my expert on all things British, especially helping keep my political plot thread accurate, and to _TheAlienDoctor _and _Agana of the night _for continued reviews! I know it's a lot to ask, but do you think you guys could get me to 100 reviews? As always, much love and gratitude to everyone!_**


	22. Down the River's Dim Expanse

_Two weeks later_

Lancelot woke in the middle of the night with a strange sense of foreboding. Immediately, he realized what was missing: instead of the other side of his bed being filled by Elaine, her pillow was empty, with only rumpled sheets to mark her prior presence.

"Elaine? 'Laine, are you in the bathroom?" he called out. When there was no answer, Lancelot yelled again, getting up to go check the rest of the flat. "Elaine! Seriously, this isn't funny. Where are you?" he yelled again, his voice climbing as panic began to break over him. Dashing through the other rooms, he couldn't find any trace of where she had gone. He ran back into the bedroom, grabbed his phone from his bedside table- noting as he did so that Elaine's was still sitting on the other table- and quickly scrolled through the contacts until he found the number he was looking for.

"Lancelot? God, it's two o'clock in the morning, can't this wait?" Merlin asked groggily. In the background, Lancelot could hear a second voice, the Welsh accent particularly thick in his low muttering.

"Merlin, it's Elaine. She's gone missing. I just...woke up, and she was gone. Her phone's still here, all her stuff, but she's just gone!" Merlin sat up further, reacting to the clear terror in his friend's voice.

"Don't touch anything. Give us a few minutes, we'll be right over, see what we can do." Lancelot nodded, unable to articulate his thanks, and ended the call.

The two men arrived only fifteen minutes later, both looking distinctly disheveled in whatever clothes they'd thrown on and hair rumpled, but alert and purposeful. As Mordred quickly filled Lancelot in on the spells that they were using, Merlin began searching the apartment. He spotted a jacket tossed on the sofa and pointed to it.

"Lancelot, is this hers?" he asked urgently. When Lancelot nodded, Merlin glanced at Mordred, wordlessly communicating. The younger man moved swiftly to his partner's side as they both began muttering, placing one hand each on the jacket and eyes glowing. Lancelot tried to stay calm as his friends worked their magic, taking deep breaths to steady himself. _I don't know what I'll do if something's happened to her. She made- no, present tense, she makes- me feel joy again, like I hadn't in far too long._ Finally, Merlin looked up.

"Tracking spell," he explained brusquely. "I think we can find her now. Come on- let's go."

* * *

Elaine walked along the bank of the river, meandering dreamily. Out of the darkness and mist, there suddenly appeared a figure, hooded and cloaked, walking towards her with an eerie grace. A moment of panic broke through her unnatural calm as she recognized the figure as the one that had haunted her dreams.

"Hello, Elaine," it said in the voice that sent shivers up her spine. "I've been longing to meet you in person for so very long. Come, walk with me." A pale hand extended towards the artist. Without even knowing what she was doing, Elaine automatically took the hand. The other person seemed to smile within the depths of the hood, Elaine able to briefly glance at the face as her arm was tucked securely, almost companionably, into the cool, cloaked arm of the stranger. "Now, my dear, let's have a little chat, shall we?"

"About what?" Elaine couldn't help asking.

"Well, I thought we'd start with your friends. Arthur, and Gwen, and the others. And of course, we must talk about your boyfriend. Lancelot, isn't it?" A chill ran through Elaine's body as the stranger spoke his true name.

"How do you..." The figure laughed just slightly, but not humorously.

"I think you'll find I know a lot of things, little lily maid. And I think it's time I shared them with you. I've been trying to, you know, in your dreams. But I thought it was time we finally got to meet in person. Come along, now, Elaine. Time is short, and we have much to discuss."

* * *

"Now, my dear, do you understand?" The cloaked figure crouched in front of Elaine, who was on her knees on the ground and shaking, her body racked with sobs as the other person stroked her loose blonde hair. "They don't really care about you, Elaine. They never will. You're an outsider, someone who's good for the moment but can never truly be part of the life they lead."

"And...and Lancelot?" Elaine managed to gasp out between her tears.

"He's the worst of all, don't you see? You know the tales- and now you know they're not just stories, but truth. He will always love her. And for the rest of time, no one will ever think of him without thinking of her, too. You're a replacement, one he will inevitably tire of." The dark figure whispered soothingly, persuasively, almost seductively into the little artist's ear.

"Why are you telling me all this?" Elaine cried out in anguish. "Why couldn't you just let me be?"

"Because I understand, Elaine, like no one else can. I know what it's like to be an outsider. I know what it's like to have the ones you love leave you behind as second best. I am the only true friend you have, Elaine. Do you hear me? I am your friend, they are not." The voice took on a harsher, more insistent tone.

"You...you are my friend. They are not," Elaine repeated mechanically, not quite sure if she felt the words or not but somehow feeling they were true. The face smiled, although the smile only enhanced its cold cruelty.

"Very good. Then you won't mind me asking a little favor of you."

"What?" The cloaked figure leaned in closer, as if confiding a deep secret.

"I want you to tell me all you know of them. I want you to help me make every one of them pay. Help me destroy them, destroy those who would not care if you lived or died." Elaine jerked back, the spell momentarily broken.

"What? No. No! I won't do it." Elaine struggled to her feet, fighting to resist the powerful draw tugging at her mind. "I don't know who you are, only that you have been my nightmare- literally- for a while now. I don't trust you- I trust my friends, and I trust Lancelot. I know he loves me- they all do! No, I won't help you with whatever plan you have! And I'm going to tell them, I am! Then they'll know about you. And judging by how you've tried to manipulate me and lure me out here, I'd guess that's the last thing you want right now!" Despite her pajamas and sleeplessness, Elaine actually looked quite fierce, with her blonde hair blowing back in the breeze and the moonlight casting her angry, determined features into even sharper relief.

With a sudden movement of hands, the figure had Elaine back on the ground, unmoving. Approaching the young woman, the figure glanced down at her prostrate body and sighed.

"Now we can't have you running back to your precious knight and telling him everything, now can we?" it mused aloud. "I could wipe your memory, but...No. It's much better this way. And then perhaps, without you, your brave and noble knight will turn right back to her, and break that group right down the middle." A few swift movements, a poetic design or two, and a slight splash in the river.

"Goodbye, O Lily Maid."

* * *

The three men were pacing quickly along the banks of the river, having parked as close as they could and now going on foot. As Merlin muttered the spell again, trying to get a more precise location, Mordred suddenly spotted something out of the corner of his eye, floating in the river. As his vision adjusted, he was able to make out exactly what it was. A raft, floating along but clearly sinking very slowly, with a petite blonde woman on top, her nightgown slowly getting weighed down with water, and surrounded by lilies.

_Merlin! You'd better come over here. Try to keep Lancelot calm._ At the sound of his companion's voice in his mind, Merlin jerked up and looked where he was. Eyes widening, he gently took his friend's arm as they hurried over to Mordred's side.

"Oh my God. _Elaine!" _Lancelot cried out, unable to contain his emotions. Exchanging a quick glance, the warlock and the druid turned towards the river and extended their hands. Eyes flashing in unison, the raft suddenly stabilized and began to float swiftly towards the bank, where the three men quickly pulled Elaine to safety. Sitting on the ground, Lancelot pulled his unconscious girlfriend into his lap and began murmuring urgently, trying to get her to wake up. When she wouldn't, he looked up at Merlin, terrified.

"She's not waking up. Why isn't she waking up?" he exclaimed, panicked. Sinking to his knees next to them, Merlin gently placed a hand on Elaine's cool forehead and muttered a few words in the language of magic. He glanced up at Lancelot.

"She's alive, Lancelot. She'll be alright, I think. She was put under a spell to keep her unconscious, but I can undo it, just give me a minute, okay?" Lancelot nodded wordlessly, clutching Elaine close to him. As Mordred paced, keeping watch, Merlin placed his hands on Elaine's temples and began to murmur again, the telltale flash of gold in his eyes. After what seemed like forever but was really only less than a minute, Elaine's eyes opened and she sat up reflexively with a sudden gasp.

"Elaine! Oh, God, Elaine! Are you okay? Shh, shh, it's me, it's just me, sweetheart." Elaine burrowed into the knight's chest as he pressed kisses into her hair and let her cling to him, relieved that she was alive.

"Lancelot...Oh, Lancelot, I'm so sorry! I didn't know what was happening! One minute I was asleep, having one of my nightmares, and the next I had walked all the way here. And then... The dark woman, she wanted me to hurt you, to hurt all of you. And I wanted to...but then I didn't, and when I said no, she...I'm not sure. I don't remember anything after that." Glancing over at the raft, still covered in lilies, she drew in her breath sharply. "Was I... was I on that?" she asked, pointing with a trembling finger. Gently, the men all nodded. "She made me do it, she made me think things...horrible things, she gave me all those nightmares...I hardly remembered who I was!" she sobbed into Lancelot's chest.

"Who did, love? Who was it?" he asked softly, hating to see the strong woman he loved reduced to such a state.

"The dark woman. It was her, it was her face in my dreams, she's the one who was here!" Elaine replied fearfully. At those words, Merlin and Mordred both started back, their eyes meeting in identical expressions of horror.

_That's why we felt off, that's what we were feeling. It's her. We have to tell the others, _Merlin said into his lover's mind. The younger man nodded in agreement. Turning to Lancelot, they saw their own expressions of horror mirrored on his handsome face. As they reached down to help him with Elaine, Merlin briefly squeezed his friend's hand, trying to reassure him although he didn't know if he could.

* * *

"Here, Elaine? Are you sure?" Arthur asked in the gentlest tone he could. Upon Lancelot returning with a terrified and tormented Elaine and the two magicians wearing identical expressions of grim foreboding, the Round Table had decided that there was no time to waste in trying to find the woman responsible. During her attempts to worm her way into Elaine's mind, she had inadvertently left behind traces of her own memories, which Merlin and Mordred's combined skill and power had been able to bring to the forefront so that the artist could help guide them. Now they stood outside of a crumbling stone ruin in the middle of nowhere that looked utterly uninhabitable.

"I think...maybe underground?" Elaine replied tentatively. Although one hand was firmly on the gun at his waist, Lancelot's other hand kept hers securely wrapped close. On her other side, Gwen gave her free hand a sisterly squeeze. The knights nodded and proceeded forward cautiously. Only moments later, Mordred communicated to Merlin that he'd found the entrance to a tunnel underground. Merlin quickly took the lead with Arthur and Leon, Elyan behind them, followed by Gwen, Lancelot, and Elaine. Gwaine and Percival came next, bringing up the rear with Mordred. Armed with flashlights, guns, and small flames flickering in the hands of the two magic users, the group slowly proceeded forward until they turned into a small, cavernous room. The beam of Arthur's flashlight suddenly fell on something different from the dark dirt and stone; this was cloth, so dark it nearly absorbed all the light. As the others approached, the light grew brighter until the room finally flared up in full light. In the center of the space, on a chair that seemed to grow out of the earth and stone itself, sat a woman. Although her hair was smooth and her black dress was not tattered, a familiar madness still danced across her beautiful but cruel face as she smiled coldly, ignoring the drawn guns and addressing herself to the blond king in the center.

"Hello, brother. It's been far too long."

_**We have a villain! Kudos to those of you who guessed long ago that Morgana was the ultimate force of evil overshadowing this story. But who is she and what does she want now? Also, for those unfamiliar with the original tale of Elaine, the Lily Maid of Astolat, I utilized the most famous of her stories (floating to her death surrounded by lilies after loving and losing Lancelot, as in the poem that I quote for the title chapter, "The Lady of Shalott") but I wanted to keep her as a heroine, not a passive, lovesick girl. I hope I did her justice- I've always liked Elaine, and I wanted her and Lancelot to play a real part in the story. Thank you all so much- last chapter you not only got me to 100 reviews but over that number! You are such a wonderful audience and I look forward to hearing your thoughts! As always, onwards!**_

**~C**


	23. The Sorceress

"Morgana." Arthur betrayed as little surprise as possible at the sight of his half-sister, fighting to keep an even tone and expression. The group instinctively drew a little closer together, Gwen stepping a little forward to be directly at Arthur's side, ducking Elyan's arm that tried to draw her back and slipping into the space Arthur had shifted wordlessly for her to stand with him. Lancelot drew Elaine back a little bit, and the brother knights casually yet precisely fell into their old battle formations. Merlin reached for his bond with Mordred, but before he could, the younger man had slipped to his side, his blue eyes reflecting a whole storm of emotions.

_Mordred? You alright? _Merlin asked, concerned at the reunion between the onetime allies in evil. Almost imperceptibly, Mordred shifted so that his hand brushed Merlin's.

_Yeah, don't worry about me. I'm fine. _Feeling the worry emanating from his lover, Mordred added, _I promise. Just stay close._

_Like I'd be anywhere else._

As the men of magic had this brief exchange, the nearly identical blue-gray eyes of the Pendragons had never left each other, as if trying to gauge each other's reactions and strength or searching for something. Finally, Arthur broke the silence again.

"How long have you known, Morgana?" he asked without preamble. "How long have you been awake?" A cold smirk, eerily familiar to the gathered group, crossed the face of the sorceress.

"Longer than you, I'm afraid," she replied. "I've had plenty of time to think, darling brother. Plenty of time to think about the past, and make plans for the future. I suppose I have you to thank for this, though, don't I...Emrys?" For the first time, Morgana directed her attention to someone other than the king, turning her twisted smile instead on the warlock. He did not react to her gaze, instead meeting it with calculated neutrality.

"Do you think to unsettle me by using that name? Or are you trying to break the trust between myself and the others?" Seeing her smile falter just slightly, he could tell that was indeed the case. "Sorry to disappoint you, Morgana, but they all know. Told them everything. So there's no use in trying to blackmail me with that name or that secret. It's a secret no longer- and no longer can be used to drive a wedge between us." Pleased at the frustrated expression that briefly flickered across her face, he smiled slightly. "So tell me, then, how were you awake before Arthur?" he asked conversationally, genuinely curious but also trying to buy time, as he could sense his partner quickly thinking and calculating the odds of different ways of getting the group out of the cave with minimal damage.

"My sister, Morgause. Your..little spell...was something entirely unexpected, I'll give you that. One moment, I was floating in the abyss, and the next... Well, my sister got caught in your web of magic, but just on the edge, just barely. She gave up her chance at life again and gave me the little magic she yet possessed, so that when the time came, I would not have to crawl helplessly until the great King Arthur returned," she spat venomously at her brother, "but that when the time came, I would rise again from the earth itself, fully aware and fully myself, unaging until all awoke, and ready for what must come." Feeling she had said too much in pride for her sister, Morgana fell silent, glaring at them all until her gaze fell on Mordred.

"Mordred? Is that really you?" she asked, seeming genuinely surprised for the first time. As she made to rise from her seat to approach him, he held up a hand, blue eyes filled with an icy anger and a hint of pity.

"Don't." With that single word, Morgana looked as if she'd been punched. The brief flicker of hope fell from her face as her onetime ally rejected her. Swallowing to get rid of the pesky emotion that welled up unexpectedly, the sorceress settled back into her chair.

"Then what do you want, Morgana?" Arthur asked calmly but warily, his gun still trained on her. His sister smiled coldly.

"Ah, yes, I wondered when we'd get to that. You see, Arthur, I've been waiting a very long time to get what's mine. And to kill you, of course. Only this time, I think I'll take the pleasure of that myself." Before she could even move, Merlin had leapt in front of Arthur, eyes flashing gold, as the air shimmered in a nearly-invisible wall separating the Round Table from the evil woman. Morgana's face twisted in anger for a moment. Suddenly, Gwen realized something as she stared at her former friend.

"It was you. You sent that man, to the park, with the enchanted bullets. You're the one who tried to kill Arthur and make it look like a random shooting." In every word, Gwen's voice dripped with a regal, icy fury, every inch the queen. Morgana laughed.

"But of course, my lady. It all would've been so much easier that way," she replied coolly, without even a trace of remorse. A sudden rush of anger filled Gwen as the witch calmly approached the shimmering wall of magic, running her hand along it as if looking for weaknesses. While she seemed distracted, Gwen cast her eyes around, looking for anything they could use as a distraction long enough to get out of the cave. As her eyes traveled up the wall of magic, she noticed a large clump of rock near the top, crumbling precariously. _If I could hit that, and the magic send a shockwave..._she wondered. Keeping her eyes on Morgana, the queen reached out to bump Merlin's hand. When he turned towards her, she merely glanced at her gun, then at the rocks, then between him and Mordred. Merlin nodded in understanding, immediately reaching out with his mind to share the idea with Mordred, who looked at Gwen with a faint smile of approval. Pretending to cower behind her husband, Gwen whispered to Arthur and Elyan, "When I say so, run. Tell the others." Turning back quickly to avoid suspicion, she could feel the shifts behind her as the knights passed the message along, Arthur continuing to carefully speak with Morgana to keep her occupied. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mordred and Merlin nod in unison as a signal.

With a sudden, swift movement, Gwen leapt out from behind Arthur's arm.

"Now!" she shouted. Aiming precisely, she fired two shots in quick succession at the rocks that were shielded from magical attack but not from a physical one. As they began to shudder and crumble, a slight gap formed in the wall of magic, which the two sorcerers wasted no time in taking advantage of. Muttering a spell in unison, they exploded the boulders, creating a rockslide that buried Morgana behind it. The others had turned and run the moment Gwen had yelled; only Arthur remained behind, gun still drawn, to cover the retreat of the three who had enacted the plan.

Scrambling and helping each other get away, the group finally made it outside and into a nearby ravine, where they all gasped for breath after their sudden escape, clutching each other in a many-armed tangle of knights, royals, and wizards. As they all recovered, Arthur stood up straight and took Gwen's hand.

"Friends, we have Guinevere here to thank for our escape. She figured out the way to get us out, and with Merlin and Mordred's help, created the rockslide that gave us time to escape." With no small degree of affection, he gently brushed a bit of dirt off her cheek before raising her hand to his lips and kissing it. "All hail the Queen!"

After the moment of victory subsided, Arthur's face grew dark again.

"To the Round Table, everyone. We have much to discuss."

* * *

"We know now that Morgana has been present for much longer than any of us- Merlin excepted, of course," Arthur said, inclining his head to the man at his right. Merlin shook his head, a dead expression on his face.

"I should've known. I should've sensed her presence long ago...I've failed you, milord. All of you," he muttered, head low. Mordred, who was sitting next to him since they had eschewed order that evening so that everyone could sit by those they were closest to, covered his hand gently.

"No, Merlin, it's not your fault. She had all the powers of darkness to help conceal her, and you didn't even know that you needed to be looking," he reassured in a low, comforting voice. Arthur nodded.

"Mordred's right, Merlin. You've done more than we could ever ask- and Morgana would have found a way back even without your spell. The question is, what do we do now? We have to figure out her plans- besides killing me, of course- and how to stop her." Something Morgana had said earlier suddenly struck Merlin.

"Wait...she said that she had come to 'get what was hers', right? And what did Morgana always believe was hers?"

"Camelot," Arthur finished, sharing a long look with his best friend in which everything was communicated. Realization dawned as he finally looked away. "But now that Camelot's gone..."

"She'll settle for the whole United Kingdom," Leon finished grimly.

"And as soon as she wakes up, which I'm sure won't be long, she'll begin. She's got no reason to delay any longer," Percival added.

"And we know she's got others on her side, too." Everyone turned to look at Elaine, who until now had been silent, staying close to Lancelot and just watching the goings-on. "She was behind Arthur's shooting- that means she's got ordinary people somehow convinced to do her bidding. God only knows how big of an army she could have by now, if she's been awake and gathering followers for, what, more than twenty years?" A silence fell over the table as they absorbed what Elaine was saying. Arthur finally broke the silence.

"We have to warn the government, get the military on standby or something, get ordinary people to stay out of the way."

"I've got a contact in a special-ops group. They're tiny, but have a lot of influence and resources to deal with weird stuff. And they know who I really am, so there won't be any need for secrecy," Merlin volunteered. Arthur nodded.

"And we'll get in touch with the Prime Minster and the others in Parliament right away," Gwaine piped up, standing up and gesturing to himself and the other knights. "What do we tell them, Arthur?" The king paused, then spoke with great gravity.

"Tell them we've received a reliable tip of an incoming attack on Great Britain. Tell them it's to be taken seriously- very seriously. Tell them... tell them we're at war."

_**And here we go! We're heading into the home stretch now, my dear readers! And Morgana has been awake, adult, and unaging since Arthur was born (I don't think that's clear in the story)- what could she have built in that time? What do you think? I promise it won't be just action-y stuff; I still have some significant character things to address that I think you'll really like. But it's time that our beloved Round Table did more than go to weddings and flirt telepathically. I also slipped in a reference to another of my favorite shows that will probably be a running reference through the rest of the story- did anyone catch it? Thanks as always to every reader, follower, and reviewer- I hope you're enjoying!**_

_**~C**_


	24. All That Remains

The citadel was once again the center of quiet but urgent activity, as it had when the first Round Table had gathered there to find a way to reclaim Camelot so long ago. To one side, the knights were spread out slightly, some talking on their phones and one or two on video chat, getting in touch with their contacts in the government and trying to impress upon those in power the urgency of the situation, without giving too much away. As he hung up, Gwaine looked over and called out to Arthur.

"Arthur! Looks like we've gotten in touch with most of the Cabinet ministers. They're all waiting for word on what to do- assuming an emergency session is probably in order." At that, Percival piped up.

"Well, not all. Samuel Carter is a little preoccupied. You know how his brother disappeared about a year ago? Seems he's shown up again- totally unharmed and back with his family. So they're a little busy at the moment." Arthur frowned, feeling the tug of instinct, but had to turn his attention to other things as his phone rang.

"Prime Minister, thank you for calling me back, sir. Yes. Well, this is going to sound a bit strange, so bear with me..." Arthur walked away from the others a short ways to have a little quiet to speak. Meanwhile, Merlin had retreated into another corner to make his own phone call. But before he could finish dialing, there was a sudden sound from outside, like a bomb being detonated. The citadel went dead silent as everyone exchanged terrified looks. Only Arthur still spoke, his voice suddenly dropping into a lower, deliberately calm tone.

"Yes, sir. We heard that too." Merlin and Mordred were already halfway outside. Upon getting to a point where they could see beyond the little pocket of magic land, the two men fell at a loss for words, instinctively reaching out for one another's hands. Following behind them, the rest of the Round Table spilled outside, the same expressions of shock crossing their faces. Arthur immediately seized Gwen's hand, and Lancelot pulled Elaine closer as the other knights closed into a slightly tighter knot.

The evening skies were glowing, but not with the bright, warm lights of the city. This was a familiar, eerie glow, all orange and red and gray swirling in a terrible haze across the land and sky. In the distance, they could hear shouts, muted explosions and strange mists that Merlin and Mordred recognized as magic-based, and the occasional unsettling _bang _of a gunshot.

"My God. I didn't think she'd move that quickly. How could she have..." Arthur's voice trailed off as he looked in horror at the scene confronting them. Without further words, the group dashed out of the safety of their magically-protected pocket and towards the fray, leaping into their cars and taking off towards the city, disregarding speed and luckily avoiding all traffic.

Merlin was on his phone now, frantically muttering to his black-ops contact.

"Jones! I don't care what you put out there. Call it bio-terror or something, just get the word out there that people are to stay in their homes. No exceptions!" His voice took on a more concerned edge. "And that includes you two. You and Jack stay underground, you hear? Knowing Morgana, she might even be able to kill you two permanently. This is our battle, alright? Yeah, yeah, I'll let you know if that changes. Thanks." Clicking off, Merlin answered the strange glances he was getting from his fellow passengers. "That's the guy I know in the organization that deals with this sort of thing. They've got access to all the media outlets in the country- they're putting out an emergency message telling people to stay indoors until further notice." When the odd looks didn't subside, he smirked. "Oh. Yeah. He and his partner kind of don't stay dead. Not magic- science. It's complicated. Haven't you learned yet that most things you think are impossible are true?" Just then, Gwen's phone rang.

"Elyan? What is it, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice rising in panic for her brother in the other car. She listened for a moment before hanging up, a worried expression crossing her face.

"Guinevere? What did Elyan say?" Arthur asked his wife. She shook her head slightly.

"It's the strangest thing. When they were stopped for gas, Leon went inside to pay and came out looking terrified. He's done a lot of work with a missing-persons organization, you know, and he swore that there was a man in the store who had gone missing about ten years ago and was supposed to be dead- whose body was found and then went missing again. And when they were driving away, Elyan swears he heard gunshots." From the third row seats, Lancelot suddenly sucked in a breath.

"That's it. That's how she's doing it." Except for Mordred, who was driving (with magical assistance so he could pay attention to the conversation), everyone's heads swiveled to look at the knight, whose face had become a mask of fear, grief, and anger all at once. He glanced briefly at Merlin, and in that anguished look, the warlock understood exactly what his friend had.

"It's the same thing she did to you. Only on a massive scale," Merlin said, not unkindly. Lancelot nodded wordlessly as the others had various degrees of comprehension dawn. Seeing this, Merlin explained further. "Percival said one of the ministers' brothers showed up out of the blue after having been missing for a long time. Then Leon saw a dead man whose body had disappeared a decade ago. All these years, all these disappearances- she's been killing people or taking their bodies, then reanimating them with shades that will do her bidding. An army- and they'll fight to the death, ruthlessly and emotionlessly, without any sense of self-preservation." As the full weight of the situation sank in, expressions of horror slowly dawned on the others' faces. Once again, a phone rang, breaking the dark silence that had settled over them all. This time it was Arthur's; he answered it brusquely.

"Prime Minister? We're on our way, is there something else?" The man on the other end of the phone spoke calmly yet authoritatively.

"No, Penduron, you're not on your way. You and the others are not to come in, do you understand? It's too dangerous for everyone to be in one place. Get yourselves somewhere out of the way, and you can videoconference on your phones or something."

"But-" Arthur began indignantly, kingly pride stung at the idea of staying out of a battle zone.

"Arthur," the Prime Minister said, this time a hint of pleading in his voice, "please, just do as I say." For a moment, Arthur recalled the man not as his superior in government, but the kindly and clever man who had been a friend of his father's and who he had known for most of his life, and who was apparently now trying to protect him and the government in one swoop. He nodded.

"All right." Leaning up to Mordred, he said, "Pull over at the next place you can, somewhere we can set up base." Mordred nodded his assent as Merlin quickly pulled out his phone to call the other car and tell them to follow the same directions. A few moments later, Mordred pulled the car off the main road, heading for an abandoned warehouse. As he did so, the group suddenly noticed a large group of people running in the same direction, fleeing pell-mell.

"Pull over," Arthur commanded, and Mordred obeyed. Rolling down his window, Arthur called out to one of the people running past. "Where are you going? What's happened?" A young man, about Arthur's age, looked up and responded.

"Damned if I know! Just gettin' away from that!" he exclaimed, pointing back towards the city, where the haze of destruction was clearly visible. Arthur thought for a split second, exchanging quick glances with Merlin and Gwen, before calling back.

"Do you know that old warehouse down the road?" The man nodded. "Go there. Tell everyone. We're with the government, we're setting up an evacuation center," he improvised, the beginnings of an idea forming in his head. The young man obeyed, and soon there was a huge crowd gathered outside the warehouse as the small knot of ancient heroes moved towards the door.

"Locked," Arthur muttered under his breath to Merlin. The warlock grinned.

"Anyone watching?" Glancing around to check, the king shook his head. "Good." Merlin's eyes flashed gold just for a moment as he magically picked the lock. "All good. Go on in." With a quick nod of gratitude, Arthur pushed the door open and allowed the crowds inside. Organizing quickly, the knights spread out, mingling among the terrified citizens and marshaling them into a more orderly fashion and dividing them into groups in each segment of the warehouse. Merlin and Mordred split up and paced the perimeter, muttering spells of protection for the border and expansion for the interior, and keeping a lookout as more people arrived. As Arthur sent another family over to the appropriate sector of the warehouse, his phone rang once more.

"Go on, Arthur, I've got this," Gwen said, appearing at her husband's side as she always did. Squeezing her shoulder affectionately, Arthur stepped into a more remote corner of the warehouse to answer the video call.

"Sir, we're somewhere safe, we're ready to go. We've also set up a bit of an impromptu shelter for people displaced by the attacks. Do you want me to get the others?" Arthur asked the prime minister. The man glanced up at the others in the room with him, then back to Arthur.

"No. It's too late."

"What do you mean, it's too late?" Arthur asked, voice sharpening in worry. When there was no response, he asked again, "Prime Minister? Sir?" There was a sudden crash in the room on the other end of the video call, and the Prime Minister's face came into view once more.

"Arthur. Do you remember when you were a little boy, and you would come into my office instead of your father's? And you always wanted to see what I was doing, asking questions and giving answers?" Arthur nodded wordlessly, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. "I knew even then, you were going to be a great man someday. And you know what? I was right." Before Arthur could reply, a mist forming in his eyes, the man's face disappeared as he apparently dropped the phone on some surface and a cold, familiar voice echoed through the room full of government men and women.

"So you're the people chosen to rule this land. I must say, I'm rather disappointed. See, this is why the people shouldn't be given a choice in the matter! They might choose someone like..well, you." Morgana said, almost idly, as she placed her hand under the chin of the Minister of Finance and forced him to look at her. "Well then. Lucky for them, it won't last for long. Friends," she said, turning to the clump of blank-faced men and women behind her, "shall we deal with them?" Fingertips crackling with magic, a cruel grin spread across the sorceress's face as she and her soldiers closed in.

* * *

Merlin was finishing another loop around the perimeter when he noticed a few of the knights clustered together in conversation. He stopped to join them, and Gwaine clapped him on the back in greeting.

"Arthur's on the phone again, we think with the Prime Minister. So hopefully we'll have some sort of a better plan, or backup, or something soon," Lancelot explained. Merlin nodded, and spotting Mordred on the other side of the warehouse, telepathically relayed the message to him.

"No. We won't." The group looked up as Arthur approached. Merlin blanched when he saw how white and drawn the blond man's face was. Approaching him and laying a hand on his best friend's shoulder, he gently asked, "What do you mean?" Arthur looked at him with dead, sad eyes.

"Morgana got to the emergency meeting, with some of her army. She killed the Prime Minister and the entire Cabinet. Took a handful of the others prisoner, killed some others, and some fled." His voice shuddered slightly and his hand reached up to shakily return the grip Merlin kept on his shoulder.

"We're the only ones left."

_**Darker and more hopeless we get! How much worse can it get, and what can they do to stop it when they're all alone? We'll find out very soon! As a side note, I want to clarify one thing: the black-ops group/friend of Merlin's is really only important on the surface (someone needed to notify the public by accessing mass media systems) and as a running reference to another show I love. I realized the way I wrote it may have made some people wonder if there was another significance to it within the story, but I promise there isn't, just me being a fangirl :) So enjoy, please read and review as always, and see you next chapter!**_


	25. Who Will Be Strong and Stand With Me?

The atmosphere in the room had changed considerably. The knights were huddled together, along with Merlin and Mordred, trying to work out a plan. Gwen and Elaine were busily making phone calls, attempting to get ahold of the knights' contacts in the military or anyone else who might be able to help. As they did, they could all sense the surreptitious gazes of the people taking shelter in the warehouse with them, glancing over at the only people as if hoping for some sort of guidance or hope from the circle of fierce yet worried young men and women.

Suddenly, a pair of people burst into the warehouse, breathing hard and silhouetted by the eerie and unnatural glow of the sky outside. Their sudden arrival caused several of the building's other inhabitants to swivel to stare at the new arrivals, as did a few of the Round Table. It was a man and woman, both quite young, probably no older than Mordred. The man was roughly handsome, with tousled dark blond hair and an athletic build; the woman was slim, about the same height as the man, and very beautiful in a casual way, as if she didn't realize how lovely her slightly tanned skin and wavy brown hair was.

"Are you sure this is right? I don't see him anywhere," the man asked, turning in exasperation to his companion. She rolled her eyes.

"And you're so observant that of course you'd spot one man in this whole crowd, right away," she snapped back impatiently. "The people said a few MPs had set up an evacuation center. He works for Arthur Penduron, and Sally said Penduron wasn't in the building when... when..." She trailed off, still coming to grips with the night's events. Panicked, David stared at her, then reached out as if to offer a comforting arm before apparently thinking better of it and jerking his arm back. Regaining her composure, the woman covered for her moment of weakness with another barb at her companion, wincing inwardly at just how harsh her tone was. "If you ever showed any patience, David Holton, I think I just might die from the shock." David grumbled something under his breath, but the girl spared him only a quick glance before turning to look through the crowds again.

Upon their unintentionally dramatic entrance, Mordred had been among those distracted enough to look up at the newcomers. To the surprise of the knights, his young face burst into a smile. The druid dashed away from their group, touching Merlin's wrist automatically as he did so, and hurried towards the pair, aware of his boyfriend's eyes following him.

"David! Emma!" he called, picking his way through the crowds and trying to hail them. At the sound of his voice, Emma turned around, then tugged at David's coat sleeve to get his attention away from his appraising, unabashedly fascinated stares at the exposed architecture of the old building.

"Mort! Knew you'd be here!" Emma closed the last few steps between them and threw her arms around the dark-haired young man, who returned her hug affectionately.

"'Course I am," he said, grinning slightly as he released her. "David." He shook hands with the man, clapping him on the shoulder and holding on just a little longer than necessary, both men seeing the slight fear and relief in the other's eyes. "Thank God you two are alright. But what are you doing here?" he exclaimed. Before they could answer, Mordred heard Merlin's voice echo in his head.

_Hey, Mordred, could you come back for a second? _

_Sure. Hang on, be right there. _Shrugging apologetically, he gestured back towards the group. "I'll be right back, just a second." Hurrying back to the knights, he asked, "Okay, what's up?" Merlin glanced up as he rejoined them.

"We're trying to figure out how possible it would be to actually find Morgana herself in a situation where we might have a chance against her. No offense, Mordred, but you've spent the most time with her in...uh, when she's been..." Gwaine trailed off awkwardly as the younger man grinned at his discomfort.

"When we were 'partners in crime'? Yeah, I get it. Let me see that map," he said, reaching to turn the map towards him.

"Who the hell is Mordred?" Startled, Mordred jerked around to see David and Emma standing behind him with odd expressions on their faces. "Wait. Wait just a second..." Emma continued, tilting her head thoughtfully. David picked up her train of thought.

"We aren't stupid, you know. We interns spend a lot of time together, it's not hard to notice that some things about you just don't add up, Mort. But that's not really your name, is it?" When Mordred didn't reply, Emma spoke again.

"Wait a second. Arthur-" she pointed at Arthur, "Lance, Percy, Leon-" she gestured to each of the knights- "his wife is named Gwen... And he called you Mordred..." Emma's eyes widened. "Either that's a really strange coincidence...or..."

"Or all the weird things suddenly make sense," David finished her sentence again. "Like... like that time when I swear we were locked out, and you were trying the door, and I could've sworn I saw your eyes change color and then the door was open."

"So you do pay attention to some things," Emma remarked dryly, earning a glare from David. Sighing, Mordred looked up at Merlin and shared a long glance, at the end of which Merlin nodded almost imperceptibly. Mordred turned to his friends.

"You mean like this?" he asked in a low voice, using magic to summon one of the papers into his hand and allowing them to see the flash of gold in his eyes. The two interns stepped back instinctively, fear mixing with fascination in their eyes.

"Whoa."

"Yeah." Mordred replied, not really sure what else to say.

"So all this...stuff...that's happening," Emma looked around at the gathered knights, "it has to do with you lot? I mean, we'd figured it wasn't exactly something normal, but..." She trailed off, then glanced up at the blond man who looked like he bore the weight of centuries in his young face. "My God. Then that makes you... Your Majesty..." she said in a very low voice, everything making sense at once.

"If you're...you know... Then are you here to save us?" David asked, incredulous but clever enough not to be skeptical of the evidence that was right in front of his eyes. The king finally met their eyes, first Emma's green ones, then David's gray ones.

"We're going to try." At this reply, Emma straightened up and lifted her chin proudly.

"Then I'm going to help. However I can, I'm with you," she said, the tone in her voice making clear that she was not to be deterred. Glancing quickly at her,

* * *

Merlin noticed Arthur quietly break away from the group. As the warlock turned to go after him, he placed an affectionate hand on Mordred's shoulder, who turned to smile at him, his favorite boyish grin that only Merlin got to see. With so much danger all around them, he was taking every opportunity he had to be near his partner. Weaving quickly through the crowds, Merlin made his way to the side of his best friend, who was sitting up against a wall. With his hair messy from running his hands through it so often and the lost look on his face, he looked as young as the first time Merlin had met him, when they were both barely out of boyhood.

"Hey," Merlin said, sliding down to the floor at his side. "What's wrong, Arthur?" he asked gently. The king didn't respond at first. "Come on, Arthur, I know you well enough to tell that something is wrong- so what is it?" Arthur stared straight ahead, resting his head back against the wall.

"All these people- they keep looking at us like they expect something. Mordred's friends, as soon as they learned who I was, they assumed I could help."

"Yeah. So?" Arthur turned to face Merlin, anguish in his pale blue eyes.

"What if I _can't_? Merlin, I'm not the same man anymore. I used to be King Arthur, a knight and a king and... so much. I'm not a king anymore- and if I'm not who I always was, then who am I?"

"Yes, you are. You are still the King Arthur I knew. You're the same man, Arthur. I know you are." Merlin leaned forward, willing Arthur to understand.

"All these people are depending on me- but this time, I don't...I don't know how to help them. I don't know what to do at all. It's all my fault. If it wasn't for me, Morgana wouldn't be here, she wouldn't be attacking, everyone wouldn't be in danger and losing their homes and lives. I can't ask them to fight with me now too, and risk their lives to fight my battle. I'm letting everyone down- the knights, Gwen, you, but no one more than myself," he concluded bitterly. Merlin reached out and placed a hand on his best friend's shoulder.

"Arthur. This- this is not your fault. All of these people here- they're _safe _because of you, because you had the presence of mind to set up this safe house. Just because you don't have a crown and a throne, doesn't make you any less a king. And the fact that you're feeling all this just proves it even more."

"Proves what?" Arthur asked, still bitter.

"That you are still the wise, compassionate king who cared about his people's welfare more than his own, the man who conquered insurmountable obstacles time and time again because he commanded the utter loyalty of a small group of people. People who believed in the man as much as they believed in the world he would create. Do you know why your name has never been forgotten? Because of that. Because you _are_ the once and future king, and the greatest leader the world has ever known or will know. No matter what age you are in, you are still that man, Arthur Pendragon." Arthur finally looked up again, and this time there was a light in his eyes.

"Really? Do you really believe that, Merlin?" The warlock grinned.

"I do." He got up, then reached down to offer Arthur a hand as he clambered to his feet. "And Arthur?"

"Yeah?"

"You aren't letting us down. And you _never_ have let me down- you never could."

* * *

"Hello? Hi, could I get everyone's attention please?" Arthur cleared his throat, standing on top of a folding table that probably shouldn't be able to hold his weight, although he was fairly certain Mordred had taken care of that already. Bit by bit, the warehouse began to quiet down as a wave of whispers and silence rippled outward from the people nearest him all the way to the edges. Arthur briefly glanced down, where Merlin and Gwen stood. When they gave him encouraging nods, he continued.

"As you already know, we are under attack from a... a highly unusual type of terror. I won't lie to you- those who are attacking have been trained to fight to the death, heedless of any injury to themselves, which makes them all the more dangerous. I don't want to frighten you, but you deserve the truth, and I believe you can handle it." He swallowed, then continued, his voice growing steadier and louder as he slipped back into the familiar patterns of the king he had been- the king he still was.

"I want to emphasize that within this warehouse, we are much safer than outside. It seems we already have provisions for a little while, my colleagues and I have worked out ways for us to stay here for quite some time. But there is still a battle going on out there. A battle that I feel obligated to be part of. So I am going to leave the warehouse, armed, and I am going to do my best to help defeat those who have decided it would be a good idea to attack the greatest country in the world." His voice intensified, taking on the fire and passion of a man who had rallied his small troops to battle.

"Because, haven't you noticed, throughout all history, those who attack Britain usually don't come out ahead? And why is that? Because we are brave. We are strong, and protective, and determined. We are _resilient- _when we get knocked down, we always get back up. And that's what I'm- we're- going out to do. To be part of that tradition as old as Britain herself, the Celtic warriors, to the people who would not give up during World War I," he glanced again at his friends, letting the faintest smile crease his face, "to the old legends of the knights of Camelot. So I'm going to fight. Are there any who will stand with me?"

The words rang familiarly in Merlin's head as he recalled another day when Arthur had asked the same question to a much smaller group. Apparently the others did too, because, after a few exchanged glances, Lancelot stepped forward first.

"I will," he said simply, nodding in Arthur's direction. Elaine stepped forward and took his hand.

"He means, _we _will." Arthur smiled slightly, inclining his head gratefully. Elyan spoke up next, followed by Leon, then Percival. As if knowing their order, the knights glanced at Gwaine, who grinned mischievously.

"We've got no chance- wouldn't miss it for the world." The others smiled, sharing the private memory. Gwen reached for Arthur, who leaned down to squeeze her hand.

"You know my answer. Yes- as it always has been." Then Mordred moved a step closer to the king he had once betrayed and met his gaze squarely, a determined fire burning in the blue depths of his eyes.

"And I," he added, without any wavering in his voice. Finally, Merlin shifted so he was again at Mordred's side. Looking his best friend in the eyes, he answered too.

"And I."

It was as if a sudden spell was broken. David and Emma were the first to dart out of the crowd.

"Well, I'm certainly not staying here. My dad taught me to shoot- I've got a gun, and I'm in," Emma declared. A flicker of concern passed over David's face before he theatrically sighed.

"If Annie Oakley's going, I'm sure as hell not staying behind. I'd better make sure she doesn't shoot the wrong side!" Emma elbowed him in the ribs, but only half-heartedly. One by one, more and more people began pushing forward, volunteering to go with Arthur. The knights began to scatter around to organize people and figure out who did and didn't have weapons.

"I'll be back- going to get weapons," Merlin muttered to Arthur as he passed. Arthur nodded, but as the warlock turned to go, he reached out to grab his arm.

"Merlin?" The other man turned back around, only to be shocked as the king pulled him into a warm hug, which, after a second of shock, he returned equally.

"Thank you, old friend," Arthur said as he released Merlin.

"For what?"

"For believing in me." At this, Merlin smiled.

"I always have."

_**Alright then, so the battle is soon to begin! How will it pan out? And where is Merlin going? I know this is a longer chapter, but there were two things I absolutely had to include: Merlin reassuring Arthur, and Arthur rallying the people as he always has (for those who didn't notice, the end of his speech comes from the first Round Table in 3x13). And if the title of this chapter sounds familiar, it's a well-known lyric from**_** Les Miserables_ that seemed appropriate._ **_**A**** few shout-outs before I go: to **_**cvgirl, _who noticed that the black-ops team I included was Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones of _Torchwood (_with my own headcanon added in!); and a particular tip of the hat to _starglen _for this chapter in particular; I hope David and Emma are proving to be worthy of their names. Thank you all so much for reading, please review as I am nearing the end of this wonderful journey, and see you soon!_**

**_~C_**


	26. Partings

Merlin hurried out of the warehouse, half-running purposefully towards his destination. As he hurried away, he heard a voice echo in his head, now as familiar as his own thoughts.

_Merlin? What's up? Where are you going? _Mordred asked. Although they were quite a distance apart now, Merlin could still hear the low, Welsh voice as if the man was standing right next to him. Over time, distance had stopped mattering in their telepathy; they could now communicate regardless of physical separation. He smiled ruefully at the thought, thinking how there was a time when the last person he'd thought he'd be that close to was now that very person.

_Don't worry, I've got a plan. I'm not in danger, and I'll be back soon. Besides, _Merlin's voice took on a dry tone that made Mordred grin even in his worry, _I think I can take care of myself. Just keep an eye on Arthur and Gwen while I'm gone, okay?_

_Sure thing. Be careful- I don't want to have to come rescue you._

_I love you_ too.

Continuing on his way, Merlin finally reached his destination. Swiftly, he found what he was looking for, tucking it into the bag whose insides he had magically expanded. Over the years, he had also managed to stockpile a small arsenal of weapons, sensing they might one day be needed. Those went in the bag too. With a final glance around, the warlock hurried away to return to the warehouse.

As he went, he saw a group of Morgana's soldiers moving through a park and ducked behind a tree to assess the situation. Without warning, a few ordinary people darted out and tried to take down the soldiers. As they fought, Merlin tried to help, but could only get off one or two spells for fear of harming the innocent people rather than the shades. However, he did notice that some of the soldiers did not carry guns but swords, which they moved uncannily fast to block bullet shots and club attacks alike, even slice through the guns, and took the people (who had probably never seen a sword before) by utter surprise. _Guns aren't always going to work against this lot, _Merlin realized. Patting the bag at his side to reassure himself it was still there, he cast one more sorrowful look at the battle he could not help, and moved on.

* * *

"Arthur!" Lancelot called out, holding a phone away from his face. "Uh, you might want to take this one." He held the phone towards the king, who took it with a wary expression.

"Hello? To whom am I speaking?" he asked formally. His face suddenly brightened. "General, thank you for getting back to us," he said, a relieved expression settling over his features for the first time in a while. After a moment, though, it fell again. "What do you mean?" On the other end of the phone, a haughty, cold voice answered him.

"It's quite simple, really. There's something very strange going on here. It's nothing we've ever seen before. And I'm not about to give the orders for my men and women to go try to fight an enemy we know nothing about! It's a death sentence! If you were smart, if you were half the man your father was, Penduron, you wouldn't either."

At that, Arthur's eyes flashed dangerously and he drew himself up to his full height.

"You're right, sir, my father never would have done this. But do you know what? I am not my father. And I am not going to abandon the people who need my help." With that, he ended the call, tapping the screen much harder than he needed to in his anger. Turning back to the small knot near him, he explained.

"The military isn't coming. We're on our own."

"I wouldn't exactly say that, sir." All heads turned to look at the entrance of the warehouse, where a large group of men and women had suddenly appeared. Suppressing a groan and making a mental note to replace the people they had as lookouts, Arthur got up and strode over to the uniformed group. One woman, probably in her early forties and with an air of authority, stepped forward.

"Arthur Penduron? I'm Major Sarah Campbell. And these," she gestured behind her, "are my troops." Arthur shook her outstretched hand, then shook his head in confusion.

"I'm sorry, Major, I don't quite understand. I was told that the army was having no part in this until some strategy could be worked up from...higher up the hierarchy." Arthur spoke politely, but there was an icy edge to his voice that spoke to his disgust at this abandonment. To his surprise, Major Campbell frowned in a similar expression.

"Well, I suppose if we're dead, they can't punish us for disobeying, now can they?" she answered dryly. Beside Arthur, Mordred and Gwaine cracked smiles. Leaning over to the younger man's ear, Gwaine whispered, "Oh, I _like_ her!" Even Arthur couldn't help smiling slightly, which seemed to set the major at ease. "Look, Mr. Penduron-"

"Arthur," he corrected. "If we're going to fight God knows what together, you may as well call me Arthur."

"All right then, Arthur. What I was saying is that the official line doesn't sit well with me. Or with my unit. We're supposed to protect the people, put our lives in between them and danger if need be. Not hide behind rules of bureaucracy and use the destruction of that hierarchy as an excuse to delay while the people are in danger. So," she looked at her troops, "we all decided that we never received the orders. And in absence of contact with our superiors, I acted as I saw fit." Arthur looked at her admiringly.

"Well then, Major Campbell. It would be an honor to fight alongside you and your troops. Why don't you come with me, and any officers you have with you, and my colleagues here can brief the rest of your unit and get you all set up. We're, uh, a bit short on weapons, though," he admitted. For the first time, Major Campbell smiled.

"Thought you might be. We came prepared." She gestured for the knights to look outside, and when they did, they couldn't suppress their gasps. The soldiers had managed to bring along vehicles filled with their unit's weaponry, from tear gas to guns. Gwaine grinned.

"Oh, I _like _her!" he said again, this time earning a roll of the eyes from Mordred and an elbow from Elyan. Arthur turned back to the group.

"All right. Percy, Elyan, Leon, you go with the soldiers, get things organized. Gwen, you too. The rest of you, with me," he ordered. As the Round Table turned to obey, Major Campbell looked at Arthur a bit oddly. "What?" he asked, noticing her expression.

"You're...you're not what I expected, Arthur Penduron. The way you take command, and how they follow you...you're more of a leader than I ever would have thought. Perhaps it's not so hopeless after all."

* * *

David and Emma had taken over the watch from the front of the warehouse, eagle-eyed and determined.

"You alright, Gray?" David asked brusquely, glancing sideways at the girl across the roof from him.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah." Even though he was supposed to be keeping an eye out, the young man couldn't help continually sneaking glances at Emma. As the wind- half natural breeze, half unnatural overdrafts from the ongoing attacks- blew a fresh gust across them, a lock of Emma's long brown hair fell in her face and kept blowing around no matter how often she swept it back. David had a sudden urge to cross the roof and tuck the hair behind her ear, and then... Quickly, to distract himself, David returned to the watch. This time, he saw a figure moving towards the warehouse. But before he could shout a warning into the walkie talkie at his side, the person looked up at them and held a light to his face.

"Relax, it's just me," Merlin called, waving at the young pair. "And you may as well come down from there- it's time." The warlock didn't wait for them to scramble down from the roof, instead darting inside immediately. David climbed down the side of the building, then held out his hands to help Emma down, gently placing his hands on her waist to help her with the final jump.

"Thanks," she said, turning to face him. Suddenly both very aware of how close they were, they cleared their throats. "Surprised you kept your hands just on the waist, Holton," she said, but the shot was half-hearted and they both knew it. Instead, they just hurried inside.

Meanwhile, Merlin had slipped to Arthur's side and relayed the news about the eerily strong and fast swords to the rest of the knights.

"Great. And it's not like anyone today can use a sword, even if we had any," Gwen commented, sliding a gun into her waistband. To the surprise of everyone (except Mordred, to whom Merlin had telepathically told everything the moment he returned), Merlin looked around, then smiled as he raised his bag.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." The knights stared at him.

"Merlin...Is that what I think it is?" Gwaine asked, a gleam in his eyes as he looked back and forth between the bag and his friend. Merlin nodded.

"I've had plenty of time to stockpile for a day like this. So I've got guns here too. Here, Elaine," he beckoned the young woman from Lancelot's side, pale yet fiercely determined, "let's distribute these, okay?" he said, handing her the smaller bag with the modern weapons. "And now-" the men leaned in, catching a glimpse of shining metal, "for the true knights." Reaching into the bag, he drew out gleaming blades, one by one, and handed them to the knights. A slightly smaller yet equally powerful sword was handed to Gwen with a slight smile and the words, "For a warrior queen, my lady." Soon, only Mordred and Arthur were left. Shuddering, Merlin pulled out a blade he loathed but one with a great deal of power that he had been too afraid to let fall into the wrong hands. The king felt a strange sensation he couldn't quite place, but Mordred leapt backwards at the sight of it, letting loose a string of Welsh curses.

"No," he snapped, blue fire flashing in his eyes with such intensity that Merlin remembered for a moment why Mordred was a man to be feared. "I won't touch it- that... that _thing. _Not after what it's done. No. Never again," he said, in a tone that made it clear he was not to be argued with. Despite the fury emanating from the younger man, Merlin couldn't help feeling a slight weight lift from his heart: the repulsion Mordred felt at the sight of the sword he had used to kill Arthur was just one more thing to prove that he was indeed on the side of the angels.

_Sorry, love,_ he apologized, but with a smile. Then, aloud, "I sort of thought you might say that. Here, this should do it," and the warlock pulled out a different sword and handed it to his lover. _It's spelled too, not as strong as a dragon's breath, but it'll help_, he added mentally. Mordred grinned as he swung the sword in a few passes with the air.

"Feels good, wielding a sword again," he commented. "Thanks. See you in a minute," he added as he went to join the other knights, who stood in a close circle concealing their swords from view and arming themselves with guns as well. With a respectful half-bow to Arthur and a quick brush of his lips against Merlin's, he left the king and his warlock alone.

"There's one more, Arthur. For you. After...well, _after, _I couldn't risk anything happening to it. So I placed it where it belonged once more. I cannot give it to you, so instead I created a portal inside of this bag. Only you can reach through it and retrieve what is yours." Arthur looked at Merlin incredulously, then with a flicker of fear in his pale blue eyes.

"Merlin...I...I don't know if I can," he said, worry creasing his young face.

"Have faith, Arthur. As you once did. You are the once and future king. Have faith- as we all have, as I always have."

Taking a deep breath, Arthur reached into the unnatural depths of the bag, feeling a tingling sensation as he crossed the portal's barriers, then wrapped his fingers around cool metal that felt as familiar as an extension of himself. Arthur exhaled, then pulled with a swift motion. Then it was done, and King Arthur stood in the middle of an old warehouse, standing tall with Excalibur gleaming in his hand. Merlin smiled- this time he had had nothing to do with releasing the sword from the stone; it was all Arthur.

* * *

_Are you sure about this? _Merlin asked worriedly, casting a glance at Arthur as they made final preparations for battle. _I should be protecting Arthur, like I always have. _

_You and I are the only ones who can do this, Merlin. And besides, Arthur can take care of himself, don't worry. _Mordred's voice echoed reassuringly in his head. Sighing, Merlin nodded his assent as he and Mordred rejoined the group with the results of their spell.

"We found her. At least, we think we have," Mordred said in a low voice to their gathered group. Holding up a single strand of long, black hair, he continued, "Tracking spells on something from a body, in theory, are never wrong because there's no chance the object would relate more strongly to someone else."

"So where is she?" Gwen asked.

"Near the caves. Probably above ground, so she can have a clearer view to work her magic on a large scale, so if she's there, we'll find her," Merlin replied, glancing at his partner at his side just as David and Emma joined the small group who knew the real stakes of the situation.

"Everyone's ready, Arthur. Major Campbell has everyone organized and says her troops are ready to go whenever you are," Emma reported, trying very hard to stay calm with all the strangeness of the story she had found herself in the middle of. Arthur nodded once to acknowledge her.

"Thanks, Emma. Alright then, everyone knows their part? Use your swords only when necessary so we don't draw too much attention, but don't hesitate when you need them. Spread out through the group and do your best to lead the segments around you. And don't be afraid," he added, unconsciously reaching for Gwen's hand, which he squeezed briefly. "Merlin, Mordred, you know what has to be done. Good luck, then," he said, preparing to bid them farewell. Their small group quickly said their goodbyes to the two magicians. The knights clapped Merlin and Mordred on the back; Gwaine and Lancelot each wrapped Merlin in a brief hug, and Lancelot hugged Mordred, too. Elaine squeezed their hands and smiled reassuringly as she passed by. As he hugged Gwaine, Merlin saw Gwen out of the corner of his eye, giving Mordred a quick hug before coming to him.

"Good luck, Merlin. It's all gonna work out, you'll see," she said, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek as he wrapped her into a tight hug.

"You and Arthur look after each other, Gwen," he replied. Then, pulling away, he looked her squarely in the eyes. "In case I've never told you, I have always believed in you, and the only thing I have loved more than you being my queen is you being my friend." With a quick kiss to her forehead, Merlin moved to meet Arthur, who was just releasing Mordred from a hug.

"Good luck, Mordred. You are...every bit the knight I knew you would be, and then some," Arthur said roughly.

"Thank you, Arthur. I'm just...I'm glad I had the chance to earn that title again." Mordred stepped away, turning away to give Merlin and Arthur a moment. The two men stood awkwardly for a moment.

"Well..."

"Uh..." The king extended his hand to Merlin. "Good luck, then. See you...later." Merlin took his hand to shake, then impulsively pulled the blond man into a hug. Arthur grinned over his best friend's shoulder.

"Good luck to you too, Arthur. Be who you've always been, and you cannot fail," the warlock answered gruffly, trying to hide his emotion as he released his friend. Arthur turned to lead the Round Table (plus David and Emma, who had flatly refused to be anywhere else) to the front line, and Mordred stepped to Merlin's side, clasping his hand tightly.

"Oh, and Merlin?" Arthur called back, Gwen pausing at his side. "I've always believed in you, too."

_**And so it begins. The next chapter will probably be long too, since we've got a battle to fight! I hated splitting our team up, but Merlin and Mordred are the only ones who have a chance against Morgana. But can Mordred continue to resist the dark pull, or will he fail again? Can the knights and their small band of followers defeat an army of shades in super-human form? And how about that Arthur/Merlin moment? Thought it was about time Arthur told Merlin he believes in him too. The end is drawing ever closer. Thanks to everyone who's been following this story, and welcome to my newer readers! I hope I'm creating a worthy climax to this story that's really been a labor of love. Sorry that it's taking longer to post lately, but longer chapters mean more time! See you all again soon!**_


	27. The Battle

Lighting their way with the glow of magic from their palms, Merlin and Mordred scrambled through the trees and rocks, finding their way towards the caves where they had first found Morgana. Both men were a little bit nervous for different reasons, yet both were silently trying to reassure the other.

_Mordred?_

_Yeah?_

_Whatever happens, I'm glad you're here. _Mordred smiled slightly.

_Thanks. Same here. _Suddenly, Merlin stopped short, causing the other man to nearly run into him, despite their uncanny awareness of each other's movements. He grabbed Mordred's wrist and turned him so they were facing each other. For the first time since they'd left the warehouse, Merlin spoke aloud.

"No. I mean it. After all that's happened, all these years- I never would have guessed how... how glad I'd be, how honored I'd be, to have you here and fight side by side. And I'm so proud of who you've become, Mordred. You are every bit the man I knew you were in your deepest heart," he said, gently cupping the younger man's face in his hands. The druid's blue eyes lit up in the way that had so captivated Merlin since the day they met again, the blue of his eyes set off against the green of the forest and the black of his gear.

Reaching up to touch Merlin's face in turn, he softly replied, "And I with you. I'll never forget that it was you who brought me back to myself, when I saw those memories in this life. There's no place else for me to be than right here with you." Mordred leaned forward and kissed his partner, a strong and lasting kiss as the battle flared in the distance. "Ready?"

"Ready." With that, they crossed the final distance, and atop the raised clearing ahead, they spotted a lone figure, arms extended and the telltale swirl of magic around her. Whirling around, the eerie light danced across her face, casting shadows that only made her cruel, mad beauty even more pronounced.

"Emrys. They said you'd be my doom, you know. But behold," she gestured sweepingly at the destruction down below, "perhaps it will be the other way around after all." Seeing Mordred behind him, her face changed again.

"Mordred. Oh, my Mordred. Why are you fighting on this side? Don't you remember, how I cared for you, and protected you, how powerful we were together? It could be that way again, don't you see?" she asked, extending a hand in a surprisingly gentle fashion towards the young man. "I'm trying to build a world where we could be free. Free to be who we really are, and have our power honored, and recognized. A place where you and I, and people like us, wouldn't have to hide our power, but could be revered for it! Can't you see it?" As Morgana continued to spin an idealistic, seductive vision, Merlin felt his partner tensing up, fighting off the admittedly appealing ideas. _I'm here, Mordred, just listen to my voice. Stay strong!_ Suddenly, with a flick of her hand, the three were standing in the cave underground instead of the clearing.

"But, Mordred, my darling boy, this world can't happen on the path you've chosen. Why defend the men who would only perpetuate a world like this, a world where we have to cower in fear? You turn your back on your own kind to follow a man who has betrayed you in the past. How do you know he won't do it again? He feared you- he still does. He doesn't respect you, or love you. Not as I can. Don't you see the world I want to create? And with your help, your great power with mine, we could do it. There's still time, Mordred."

_Mordred, talk to me. She's lying, you know all she wants is destruction._ Merlin began to panic when the druid man didn't reply, a strange expression settling over his handsome features. Morgana smiled slowly.

"Come with me, Mordred. Together we can have our revenge on those who have wronged us. We can make them pay for what they've done, and revel in retribution. And then, when it is done, we can build a new world from the ashes, a world in which all will bow down to us and our kind. Come, Mordred. Fulfill your true destiny." Once again, the sorceress extended her hand to her old ally, who tilted his head in a contemplative, almost cold expression that sent shivers up Merlin's spine.

_Mordred?_

* * *

The battle was difficult indeed. Morgana's shades had no fear and thus fought wildly, unpredictably, and dangerously. Scattered throughout the makeshift army of citizens and soldiers together, the knights alternately fired their guns and swung their swords, both with practiced accuracy. It was difficult, Arthur thought as he took down a shade about to attack him with a single gunshot, to fight them with human faces. But, he reminded himself, all that was human about them had died long ago; all that was left was their bodies to host Morgana's obedient spirits. As another attacked him, this time with a sword, he whirled and met his opponent with the familiar clang of metal on metal. Dispatching the man in a few moments, he whirled around again only to find himself face to face with Gwen, who had apparently just done the exact same thing, sword swinging from her hand.

"Guinevere," he said with a smile. A shade launched herself at the queen, but before he could move to defend her, Gwen had fired off two shots that hit the woman directly. "Remind me not to get on your bad side, my lady," he added, smirking proudly. Gwen reached up and pulled her husband down into a quick kiss.

"Don't worry, love, you never could," she teased, breaking away and turning so they were fighting together, back to back.

Not too far away, Lancelot and Elaine were similarly cutting a path through a particularly nasty knot of shades, with the help of some soldiers and Percival. As Lancelot sliced his sword through the air and took out two attackers at once, Elaine fired off a few shots, knocking down another. Her hair had come loose, and in the eerie glow of battle, she looked fiercely ethereal, like some avenging angel. Lancelot was agape for a moment as he watched the gentle artist he loved fighting like a warrior.

"How d'you know how to do that?" he asked admiringly? Tossing back her blonde hair, Elaine grinned.

"I don't." An even bigger smile spreading over his face, Lancelot let out a yell and led their group onwards.

In yet another section of the battle, David and Emma were firing their guns side by side in the group led by Major Campbell and Gwaine. Just as David managed to disarm a shade and knock him unconscious with his own gun, he spotted another hurtling towards Emma, who was obliviously turned the other way.

"Emma!" he shouted, struggling to reach her in time. Turning around just in time, Emma screamed and a gunshot fired as David lost sight of her in the mass of people. "Emma!" he yelled again, panic rising in his voice. Finally pushing his way to the spot where he last saw her, he was terrified to see her lying on the ground next to the body of a shade, blood on them both. "Emma," he rasped out, crouching at her side in an attempt to shield her.

"David?" His head jerked up as the girl at his feet began to struggle to sit up.

"Oh, God, Emma! Wait, don't move, you're hurt. Let me-" he began, reaching towards the spot with the highest concentration of blood. She batted his hand away.

"David, it's okay. I'm fine. David! It's not my blood," she insisted, affection and irritation mixing in her voice. At this, David's eyes widened.

"Oh. Good. Uh...in that case..." The young man stood up, pushing a lock of hair out of his face and offering a hand to help her up. When they were both on their feet, however, he didn't release her hand. Suddenly, David impulsively pulled Emma into a bone-crushing hug, one hand around her back and the other knotting in her loose, tangled hair.

"I thought...For a second there, I thought you were...Don't ever do that again!" he said roughly into her shoulder. As they pulled back just slightly, their eyes met, green on gray. Then, at the same moment, both moved forward to crush their lips against each other's, wrapping each other so close that they were nearly one person. They broke apart a few moments later, slightly stunned.

"Em? If we get out of this alive, d'you think...Dinner, a movie?" David asked awkwardly. Emma smiled, pressing her forehead to his.

"Are you asking me out on a date, David Holton?"

"If I was, would that be a yes?" Just then, a fresh wave of shades found their way into the clearing, and the two spun apart to fight back to back.

"Yes. It's a yes."

* * *

Merlin stood frozen, unable to comprehend what was happening. _I thought he'd changed. I really did. And now..._Betrayal and grief and anger all rushed through his heart as the man he loved walked slowly towards Morgana, his hand outstretched to take hers.

"Morgana. I remember the first time we met. You helped save my life. You protected me. I've never forgotten that kindness," the young druid said, a hint of wistfulness in his voice. Morgana smiled wider, slowly approaching to close the gap between them. Horrified, Merlin could hardly watch, yet he couldn't turn away from the unfolding scene either.

Then, swift as lightening, Mordred whirled his hand through the air, palm facing Morgana, and the sorceress went flying through the air, landing with a thud on the hard ground behind her. Mordred's eyes flashed dangerously as he continued to approach.

"But you have. There is no kindness left in your heart, Morgana Pendragon. Only hatred and cruelty. And you, you took a betrayed and hurt boy and manipulated him into your purposes." With every word, the knight's voice grew colder. Merlin moved slightly so he could see his partner's face, and was slightly taken aback. Somehow, his pure blue eyes blazed with ice and fire at the same time as he gazed down at Morgana, who appeared to be slowly suffocating.

_Mordred? Mordred, this isn't you. Not the real you, _Merlin pleaded, desperately hoping the younger man wouldn't succumb to his darker side again. At the sound of the warlock's voice in his head, Mordred relaxed just slightly, then lowered his hand from where he had been magically depriving Morgana of air. Turning to Merlin, the dark cruelty had faded from his eyes, replaced with a controlled, level anger.

_You're right. It's just..._

_I know. _Merlin reached out his hand as Mordred returned to his side, clasping his hand just briefly and careful to move his body to shield the affectionate gesture from Morgana's view as she struggled to her feet. Apparently, he had not been quick enough, for a sudden laugh echoed throughout the cave.

"I should have known," the sorceress taunted the couple as she stood up again. "Love, Emrys. Love has always been your weakness, hasn't it? For your family, for Gwen, for my dear brother. Tell me, Merlin, how did it feel when I took everyone you loved from you? Did it hurt? Did it make you long for revenge? But no, you're too good for that, aren't you?" Suddenly, a distant look glazed over her face before breaking into a cruel smirk. "Interesting. I do believe we're about to have another chance to find out." Merlin's face paled as he understood her meaning.

"Arthur."

* * *

As it so happened, Arthur had only been grazed by one of the shades' swords. Before he could get in the fatal blow, Gwen had struck him down in a single blow. Unfortunately, the battle was devolving for both sides. Even as Arthur and Gwen whirled to take out a few more shades, bleeding from cuts and dirty from smoke and dust, Elyan went down, his feet kicked out from under him by one of the more cunning shades. With a roar, Percival stabbed the two shades he was battling straight in the heart, then dashed to his fallen friend's side. Putting an arm around him, he helped the other knight hobble off to the side. A short distance away, Major Campbell fought her way towards Arthur as another shade appeared behind him. Shoving him out of the way at the last moment, the shot meant for Arthur's back hit the major squarely in the chest. As he bent over the unmoving form of the woman who had just saved his life, Arthur desperately hoped that Merlin and Mordred could succeed before it was too late.

* * *

"What have you done?" Merlin shouted, his voice deeper and angrier than Mordred had ever seen. Now it was his turn to be reminded just why the man he'd come to love was a figure of legend and a terrifying enemy. Merlin's eyes flashed with utter fury as he approached slowly. This time, however, Morgana was ready for him, and their spells began to flash back and forth in a strangely beautiful symphony of light and sound. But Morgana's long-simmering thirst for revenge was nothing compared to Merlin's anger at an attack on those he loved. Slipping past her guard, Merlin cast a spell that flung the witch up against the rocky wall of the cave.

"No. It isn't my weakness. It's. My. Strength!" With each punctuated word, increasing in volume, Merlin jerked Morgana back against the wall again, lost in his anger and protectiveness of his friends. She let out a scream of pain as her own magic was insufficient to completely cushion her head and body from the impact. Mordred watched his lover with wide eyes, suddenly seeing the dark magician Merlin might have been, had his life gone a different way.

_Merlin! Merlin, please, _he pleaded, _You're right- your love is your strength. That's what makes you better than her. _Merlin didn't release her. Then, from the trapped sorceress, came a low chuckle.

"Well, well, Emrys. Look at you. Going to kill me for real this time? I always knew- for all your lecturing on using magic for good, on mercy and kindness, turns out you and I, we aren't so different after all," she said, smirking triumphantly. "And that is my true victory." Merlin's hand, still extended and glowing, trembled slightly. Seeing this, Mordred reached out once more.

_Merlin. Remember what you said to me? What I once told you? The love that binds us is more important than the power we wield. _When those words rang through the warlock's mind, he suddenly turned and met Mordred's eyes. Wordlessly, he stepped away, Morgana slumping to the ground.

_Thank you, _he said simply. Mordred nodded. His face suddenly changed as he shouted, "Look out!" Morgana was upright, magic flashing and a spell intended to strike Merlin down barely missing him as he jumped to the side. The three magicians were suddenly locked in a terrible battle, rocks around them trembling and crumbling from the impact of the magic all around. Despite her recent physical attacks, the sorceress's magic seemed undiminished, and she was a match for both men. Then Merlin thought of something.

_Love. That's it. Mordred, that's how we defeat her. _

_What do you mean?_

_I was right. Love is our strength. Do you remember what you asked me, the first night we spent together? You asked me to give you my mind, and you would give me yours, and we would be as one. _Comprehension dawned on the druid's face.

_Together, then? _He smiled mischievously.

_Together. _With that, the two men simultaneously reached out with their minds, entwining their minds and their magic until they were nearly a single unit. As they battled Morgana, the smug expression slid off her face, replaced by one of panic and increasing fury. Finally, with a single synchronized motion, the men sent a blast of magic that met Morgana's latest spell halfway between the two. They struggled for a moment, both sides desperately trying to overpower the other. With a sudden cry, Morgana's magic blasted backwards, knocking the sorceress out with her own spell. But the combined effects of both blasts was too much for the cave. Mordred barely had time to yank Merlin backwards before the stones began to tremble and a sudden rockslide destroyed much of the cave.

As the rocks settled, the two men struggled to their feet amidst a cloud of dust and lingering magic.

"You all right?" Merlin asked aloud, reaching a hand down to help the younger man to his feet. Brushing a lock of dark hair out of his eyes, he nodded.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah." Glancing around, the men spotted, at the same time, a dark shape amidst the rubble. Picking their way over the rocks, careful not to cause another shift, they finally reached where the inert body of Morgan lay, eyes wide open and unseeing and dark hair obscuring her face. Merlin knelt down and quickly pressed his fingers to her neck, then shook his head as Mordred knelt beside him, his sad expression mirroring Merlin's own. Very gently, Mordred reached out a slightly trembling hand and closed her eyes as Merlin swept the hair from her face with surprising gentleness. Lying there, face unlined by anger, she resembled for the first time in ages the laughing, kind woman they had first known. Standing up, Mordred looked down at the dead sorceress.

"Rest in peace, Morgana Pendragon," he said quietly. Merlin stood and clasped his hand.

"May you find more peace in death than you ever could in life," Merlin added. Hand in hand, the men cast a spell to keep the body safe until they could bring the rest of the Round Table to at least give her a decent burial. Dusty and battered yet alive, they made their way back to find their friends.

* * *

It was as if a switch had suddenly been shut off. One moment, the shades were violently fighting to the death; the next, they fell all at once like puppets whose strings had been cut, and Arthur and company found themselves standing, bloody and battle-worn, over the lifeless forms of shades with the dark magic that had animated them gone. The knights regrouped instinctively, sharing embraces and words of gratitude that all had survived with only minor injuries.

"We did it. We won!" Arthur exclaimed, raising his voice to praise all those who had fought alongside him.

"Long live the king!" Lancelot added in a tone low enough that only their small group could hear, who then echoed him in a single low voice. _Well done, Merlin, Mordred, _the king thought. _You were the bravest of all._

As Major Campbell's eyes fluttered open, Arthur quickly crouched down at her side.

"Major Campbell? I thought..." The king's voice trailed off as the major cracked a small smile and pulled open her uniform shirt to reveal a sturdy bulletproof vest beneath it. The bullet had barely wounded her; the vest had done its job and absorbed the deadly impact.

"Arthur Penduron. I suppose I was wrong," she said, coughing slightly as she sat up.

"Wrong about what?" he asked, slightly confused.

"I thought you might be a great leader one day. But I was wrong. You already are."

_**And so the battle has been won! Ding dong, the witch is dead! I had to put Merlin and Mordred through a trial first, because I always felt that both of them had the potential for great darkness within, that the only thing that kept Merlin from it (and in this version and early Season 5, Mordred) was the choice to love instead of hate. I did want a little grief at Morgana's passing; after all, she used to be a very good woman and one whose life was never easy. So what did you all think? Were the twin battles thrilling enough? Only two chapters left: the next chapter, then the epilogue. Thanks to all my wonderful readers (as always, **_**starglen_ in particular but also_ Agana of the night _and _cvgirl)_ and I hope my conclusion will be satisfying!_**

**_~C_**


	28. Aftershocks

Arthur stood alone in the center of what had just been a battlefield, observing the aftermath. As the haze and dust cleared, it was hard to believe that this calm, cooperative scene had only minutes before been the site of a terrifying and dangerous battle for the fate of Britain. The knights were scattered throughout, working in pairs, helping see to the wounded and maintain order for a little longer. And then there was the mysterious black SUV that had pulled up just on the scene, apparently waiting for something. Just as Arthur was about to head over and find out who they were and what they wanted, he spotted two figures coming into view- silhouettes he'd know anywhere. A grin spread over the king's face as he began to stride towards them. But before he could get very far, the car doors opened and a pair of men climbed out.

Gwen joined Arthur as he hung back, watching the scene unfold from a distance just close enough to make out the faces of Merlin and Mordred and of the two strangers. Immediately upon seeing Merlin, one of the unfamiliar men, a tall man in a long, old-fashioned blue coat, sprang forward and hugged the younger man tightly. Releasing him, he turned to shake Mordred's hand with a charming grin, which earned a glare from both Merlin and from the other stranger, a young man in a suit who had just released Merlin from a hug.

"Who are they?" Gwen asked, confusion and curiosity overwhelming her relief that their friends were alive and unharmed. Arthur shrugged, putting an arm around his wife.

"No clue."

"Maybe the people Merlin was calling to tell people to stay inside?" suggested Gwaine as he and Elyan approached, the other knight kissing his sister's forehead as he joined the group.

"Probably," Emma added, she and David joining the group. Arthur noticed the young pair holding hands but refrained from saying anything. "They stand the same way," she commented, observing the four men. "The strangers, I mean. See how they move like they're always aware of each other? Just like Merlin and Mordred." Watching his friends and the other pair, Arthur was surprised to discover Emma was right; the strangers stood, as the magicians did, with a casual intimacy, shoulders brushing. Finally, it seemed their conversation was over: Mordred shook their hands, they clapped Merlin in affectionate half-embraces and headed back to the SUV. Suddenly, Gwen began to giggle and Gwaine chortled as the man in the coat not-so-subtly reached over and patted his partner's rear, causing the man in the suit to jump, straighten himself with dignity, then, a few steps later, lace his fingers through the other man's.

"Yep. Definitely just like Merlin and Mordred," the knight whispered in his queen's ear, earning another round of giggles.

Finally, exhausted but grinning, the pair reached the place where the entire Round Table had congregated by that point.

"Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed, striding forward and pulling his best friend into a warm hug, disregarding the blood and dust that streaked both their faces. "Well done," he muttered in the warlock's ear as he released him. Lancelot let go of Mordred so the king could greet the druid, as he turned to his oldest friend and wrapped him into a hug as well.

"Told you, didn't I? All those years ago? You are the bravest of them all," he said, voice thick with emotion. Merlin clapped his shoulder as he drew away.

"I...Thank you, old friend." Gwaine suddenly appeared as well, roughly hugging Merlin and ruffling his hair with all the affection of a brother before Gwen pushed her way forward and was swept up as she clung to her dear friend. Spotting Mordred in a three-way hug with David and Emma, Merlin called out to the young interns who had courageously stood with the knights.

"David, Emma- you did good," he said simply. Mordred grinned at them affectionately as they nodded their heads in acknowledgement. Merlin turned back to Arthur to explain the conversation they'd all been watching.

"That was my secret-ops contacts. They're going to put the story out there that this was a bio-terror attack perpetrated by a group that believed they were reclaiming Britain for its rightful rulers. The shades will be explained as people who were brainwashed in a cult-like setting into thinking they were serving an ancient sorceress."

"Mixing the truth with an explanation people can accept," Mordred added confidently.

"Trust me, they're really good at making things like this go away," Merlin reassured the group in a business-like tone. "Also, they've already been in touch with the other survivors of the attack on Parliament. A few leaders seem to have survived- they got all the most crucial files and information out of the battle zone and hid with it in safe houses. They're pulling together a meeting to pick up the pieces and resume government as soon as possible- you'll all be there, of course." Then he addressed himself to the king, his face growing sober.

"Arthur? There's something you should probably see."

* * *

"Was it quick?" Arthur asked abruptly, looking down at the pale, lifeless body of his half-sister. Gwen was surprised at the grief she felt, squeezing Arthur's hand tightly. _But she was my friend, once. She wasn't always like this,_ the queen remembered. Merlin nodded, but it was Mordred who answered aloud._  
_

"We were fighting, and her magic ended up blasting her backwards. The shock from the impact of the spells made the rocks cave in. She died instantly- she didn't suffer," the young knight said, his voice cracking. Merlin reached out to take his partner's hand, which was received with a grateful squeeze. Arthur crouched down and bowed his head over Morgana's body. When he looked up again, his pale blue eyes were filled with tears.

"She was my sister. For most of our lives, I loved her like a sister, even when I didn't know she really was. You know," he began, half-laughing, half-crying, "we used to drive the governesses mad. We'd sneak out of our lessons and explore the castle. And when we were spotted- which we always were- I'd grab her hand and oh, how we'd run, laughing and skidding and...Some...some part of me always hoped she might be that girl again." Brusquely brushing away his tears, he stood up.

"Rest in peace, sister. I hope you know, wherever you are, Morgana, that you were not unloved in life," he said, a tone of finality in his voice. He stepped back to Gwen's side and nodded Merlin. Wordlessly, he and Mordred moved forward with torches. With a whisper of magic, the fire licked along the stones where Morgana's body lay, giving her the funeral of a noble, despite her later evil. As the flames finally flickered and died, Merlin gently nudged Mordred forward, Arthur slowly approaching as well. _Go on, Mordred. It's your right too, _he gently reassured the younger man. A slight breeze began to blow as the two men carefully began to pick up the ashes from the stones, still warm from the flames. Raising their hands in unison, they let the ashes scatter on the breeze across the land that Morgana had once loved. Finally, when it was finished, the group stepped back, a little closer together as they simply stood in silence.

Morgana Pendragon was truly gone.

* * *

"All right, you lot. We need to check you all, make sure you aren't hurt, all that," Merlin announced to the group that had congregated in the green forest that once was Camelot. David and Emma had come along this time, eyes bulging when they stepped through the magic barrier but otherwise accepting the strange turn of events. With some grumbling- as expected- the friends plopped down on logs, stones, or just sprawled in a very undignified manner on the ground as Merlin or Mordred approached each in turn. For each of them, the magician set his hands on their shoulders and let tendrils of magic work their way through their bodies, checking for any and all injuries. When they found one, they muttered a spell to heal the bruises and cuts that the combatants had suffered.

As Mordred worked on healing Elyan's leg (one of the more severe injuries), Merlin moved to where Gwen was sitting.

"Your turn, milady," he said with a smile. Placing his hands on her shoulders, the warlock sent the gentle tendrils of magic through her veins and muscles, searching for wounds. He healed a few cuts on her cheek and arms, but she seemed otherwise fine. Then, with a jolt, he felt the magic bump up against something completely foreign.

"Gwen. How long have you known?" he asked, finishing the examination and releasing the magic.

"Known what?" she replied innocently, not quite meeting his gaze.

"_Guinevere. _How long?" Merlin insisted, leaning down to look her squarely in the eyes. The queen shrugged, a slight smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

"Honestly? I wasn't sure. I thought, perhaps...but then I haven't really had time to go find out for sure. So...you're saying...?" The question hung in the air for just a moment before he grinned broadly and nodded. Flinging her arms around him, Gwen let out a squeal, muffled in his shoulder.

"What on earth?" Arthur asked, suddenly appearing by the embracing, laughing friends. Breaking away, Merlin grinned up at his best friend.

"I think Gwen has something to tell you, Arthur. I'll, uh, leave you two to it," he said, scrambling to his feet and walking an appropriate distance away. From his vantage point, he couldn't hear what was said, but he could see everything. Gwen had Arthur's hands in hers and was leaning forward as she spoke. The shock on Arthur's face was clear even from this distance as he put both his hands on his wife's shoulders. When she nodded, an enormous smile broke over his face, like a boy who got the best Christmas present ever. With a peal of joyous laughter that was so loud, it caused the rest of the group to turn around, he wrapped his arms around her waist and spun her around in the air, both of them laughing and crying and full of inexpressible joy.

_Is she...? _Mordred's voice echoed in Merlin's head as the druid came up next to him.

_Yep. He looks so happy, doesn't he?_ Merlin commented, watching his best friend's face filled with the joy he so deserved.

_They both do._ As the couple turned, hand in hand, to return to their friends to tell their friends what had made them so happy, the Round Table clustered together. Lancelot had an arm around Elaine, whose blonde head rested comfortably in the crook of his shoulder. Percival, Elyan, and Leon stood shoulder to shoulder, while Gwaine had an elbow resting good-naturedly on Merlin's shoulder. David and Emma kept each other's hands securely clasped, standing as part of the group despite having only joined them that day. Finally, Mordred reached down and took Merlin's hand in his, earning a smile from the tired but elated sorcerer.

* * *

Evening was about to fall, and the group was going to leave in a short while. Gwen was still at the center of the knot of knights, all teasing her and talking all at once like a whole slew of protective brothers. Arthur had wandered off for a moment and now was sitting on a log, gazing off into the distance, in the direction Merlin knew would once have shown him the gleaming castle of Camelot. He plopped down on the log next to his king and friend.

"We won, Merlin. After all this time. So now what?" he asked, still gazing into the distance. Merlin thought for a moment, then recalled a conversation from long ago, sitting on the steps of the castle after a similarly devastating battle against Morgana and an immortal army.

"Perhaps we're headed for a new time. With all that's happened- it may be time again, perhaps not today but in the near future, for you to take charge. Take on the role you're meant to have, no matter the time and place," he suggested. Arthur grinned, affectionately nudging the shoulder of his best friend as he too recalled their conversation of years past.

"Who knows what the future may bring."

_**And there we have it: the penultimate chapter, and the denouement of the great battle. Again, the black ops team is not important as anything but an outside contact, unless you watch **_**Doctor Who _and _Torchwood. _So what did Merlin find out about Gwen? I think it's pretty clear, but I promise next chapter will make it completely clear! I hope you don't think it was out of character for Arthur to mourn Morgana- I always felt that he hoped there was still some good in her. Anyways, my thanks to all my reviewers and readers as always. I can't believe this journey is coming to an end- the next chapter is the epilogue, and that will be all! I can't thank you all enough for having faith in me and this story. Really, you are wonderful. Once more unto the breach!_**

**_~C_**


	29. Epilogue: Once and Future

_Epilogue: Eight years later_

The press was gathering out front, milling about in the crowd of reporters, lights, and cameras and waiting for the first press conference of the new Prime Minister and Cabinet. Behind the scenes, things were a familiar brand of organized chaos, as the officials and their families finished final preparations and waited for their cues to step in front of the gleaming lights.

At the center of it all stood the Prime Minister himself, a small knot of his top ministers and advisors, and some family members. The Home Secretary stood near the Prime Minister's side. His reddish-brown hair had a few streaks of premature grey in it, but otherwise he was the same Sir Leon who had been Arthur's faithful and wise friend since they were boys. Only a short distance away, the Foreign Secretary and his lovely artist wife were in conversation with the Prime Minister's wife. Elaine had succeeded immensely as an artist, rising to the top of the art world in only a few short years and now was one of the UK's best-regarded artists for her ability to capture a fierce yet soft sort of beauty in the world around them. But her most famous paintings were deceptively simple, with fire and mist and lilies swirling together in an enchanting combination.

"Oliver Chevalier! What did I tell you about running indoors!" she scolded, reaching out to halt a four-year-old boy with lightly tanned skin and dark curls by catching the back of his coat.

"Sorry, Mama," he apologized, before promptly skidding off again.

"They never listen, do they?" Elaine sighed to her friend. Dr. Gwen Penduron, favorite professor of many university students, grinned fondly across the room at a pair of children. Her son, William, the little miracle that had ended a dangerous time with news of new life, was the very image of his father: handsome, thoughtful, and blond. Except for his eyes- he had his mother's deep, honest brown eyes. As he surveyed the room, he kept a protective grasp on his sister's hand. Six-year-old Jennifer was the inverse of her brother, with her mother's dark curls but her father's beautiful blue eyes that always sparkled with mischief and joy. As their mother watched, the pair dashed over to hug their uncle Elyan, who scooped up William as Gwaine affectionately twirled Jennifer around. Elyan, the new Chancellor of the Exchequer, had just married a lovely girl, Isabelle, who had just ducked out of the room to take a call from her hospital. Gwen smiled to see the clear adoration in her daughter's face as Gwaine spun her around. Although he had never married or had children of his own, "Uncle Gwaine" was a favorite with all the children, and the newly appointed Minister of Defense had a particular bond with little Jennifer Penduron, as fond of her as he would be of his own daughter. He set her down as Percival, now the top official of the Department of Education, approached to greet them.

A pair of civil servants joined their group at that moment. Gwen embraced the woman like a little sister before affectionately placing her hand on Emma's round belly. Never leaving his wife's side, David shook hands with the others, glancing around in wonder that he and Emma had somehow fallen in with some of the most legendary heroes of all time. And even more amazing- they lived up to the legend.

Off in another corner, the private advisor to the Prime Minister (known by all in the political field to be quite influential in his own right) and his husband, a top civil servant, watched the group with calm satisfaction that a new golden age had been brought about, this one without the all-too-soon tragic ending. Merlin slipped his hand into Mordred's as they contentedly watched the room.

_You did it, Merlin. Fulfilled your destiny, and his. Look at them all- it's all because of you, _the druid commented silently. Merlin turned to face his partner. Although nearly a decade had passed since they had first found their way to each other, they both still had a boyish countenance and that familiar gleam of pure joy in life.

_I still can't believe it- I have more than I ever dreamed I would. A farm boy from Ealdor- and now I'm at the right hand of a great leader, among friends, and married to someone almost as amazing as me, _he teased affectionately, stealing a quick kiss from Mordred.

_Don't forget a great father, too, _Mordred replied in a more serious tone, nodding his head towards the corner where a pair of dark-haired children giggled with Will and Jennifer. Merlin smiled softly, recalling the day a three years ago when he and Mordred had gone to visit a children's home- a cause very dear to Mordred's heart in this life- and seen two pairs of blue eyes peeping around a corner. The headmistress had explained to them, brow furrowed in worry and confusion, how strange things kept happening around the twins. They'd already been bounced to a couple of foster homes, but no one seemed to want them. At that, Mordred's face had tightened and his hand had gripped Merlin's tighter. Then they asked to meet the children.

It took only a moment, the two men sitting across from the little boy and girl, for them to see the truth about the twins. In the perfect synch that years of trust and a shared mental bond had developed, the legendary magicians had each reached out a hand, palm up, across the table. And with a flash of gold in their eyes, a single flame appeared in each of their palms as the children gasped. Then, the moment neither would ever forget: two new voices, small yet brave, echoing shyly in their minds.

_My name's James. _

_And mine's Alexandra. Are you going to take care of us?_

_Yes. For the rest of your lives, if you want us to. _The twins exchanged a glance, then smiled brightly, beautifully.

_Yes._

That had been three years ago. Since then, James and Alexandra (though they more often preferred Jem and Lexie) Blackwell-Mage had grown to love their young fathers and their vast extended family of the Round Table. Now eight years old, the twins were the oldest of the children of the Round Table and were quite adept both as students of magic and academic students in the "normal" world. Protective, loyal, and clever, they were certainly destined for great things.

A man stuck his head around the corner, catching Arthur's eye as he called, "Sir, they're ready when you are." The king nodded his acknowledgement and reached for his wife's hand. Looking around at his assembled friends and family, Arthur smiled slightly.

"Well, here we go. Just so you know-" he met each of their eyes in turn, starting with Gwen at his left and ending with a shared gaze with Merlin on his right- "I couldn't ask for a better group to share this with. I couldn't ask for a better family," he said, solemn and honest. With that, the Round Table turned and filed out to meet the press for the first time as the new power elite of Britain.

* * *

"All right, I'm told we have time for one more question," Arthur said, looking out at the sea of reporters. "Yes, you, sir," he said, gesturing at a man in the third row who had been attempting to ask a question for a while.

"Prime Minister, I'm sure you're aware of the nickname that's been coined for you and some of your Cabinet ministers, considering how you've worked together, your actions in the attack eight years ago, and of course the wonderful coincidence of your names." At that, the room filled with giggles, which the Round Table joined in good-naturedly and which soon subsided. The reporter continued, "What do you say to the connotations implicit in those names?" Arthur took a moment, glancing behind him at his family and friends. Merlin smiled as he saw his best friend stand up just a little straighter, holding himself like the king he truly was and always would be.

"I would say that it's a true compliment, it really is. To be compared to figures of legend- it's a little terrifying, to be honest!" he joked, causing the reporters to laugh again. "But seriously," he continued, his tone dropping and taking on that indescribable air of regality, "for me, for all of us, it's always been about a few things: trust, equality, and caring for the people. Because isn't that what the legends of the Round Table are all about?" he asked, stepping out from behind the podium and moving forward purposefully. "It's not about a single man who pulled a sword from a stone. It's about a group of people, a group of friends, who had the unique idea that every man's voice was worth as much as another's, regardless of what he had to say." Arthur glanced towards Mordred at that, who smiled with a look of understanding in his bright blue eyes. "It's about those who were given power choosing to use it by listening to their people and doing all they could to give them the best opportunities possible, from the highest-born," he glanced at Leon and Gwaine, "to the commoners who were anything but ordinary," he said, meeting the eyes of Lancelot, Elyan, and Percival. "It's about people who loved one another and could work together and teach one another to be better despite differences because of that love and respect as people," he smiled at Gwen, who sat with a queenly demeanor and a girlish grin. "And it's about faith- having faith in others, even when they don't have faith in themselves, and helping one another to find true strength and courage." With the final sentence, Arthur looked squarely at Merlin. Blue met blue as the men shared a short but meaningful glance, one filled with gratitude and understanding and a love stronger than the closest of brothers.

"So what do I say? I say that I hope we do live up to those names. I hope that we can fight as a new kind of knights, not with swords and spears, but with words and actions. That we fight for the future. The future of-" At that moment, Arthur recalled another speech he had made, so many years ago, and marveled at the realization that he had been the first to name the land he once again led- "for the future of the United Kingdom."

_**It is with mixed emotions that I write this epilogue and this final author's note. It has been a true pleasure writing this story, and an honor to continue the beautiful, wonderful story that the **_**Merlin_ writers crafted for five incredible seasons. I hope that you all have enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Thank you for sharing your reviews with me, for liking and following this story, and simply for reading it. This is the longest story I've ever written, and the kindness you have received it with has truly touched my heart._**

**_Before I go, I do have some thanks to make. I appreciate every single reader, but there are a few people I'd like to mention. _Agana of the Night, faithlessducks, _and _AHarryPotterGleeMerlinFanGirl _were my first reviewers and have stuck with me through this whole thing- thank you! To _TheAlienDoctor _and _cvgirl_, more recent consistent reviewers- thank you (especially to _cvgirl _for appreciating my _Torchwood_ references!). Finally, I would be remiss if I did not single out the lovely _starglen, _whose detailed reviews have helped me immensely, who has kindly helped this American girl with British idioms and government, and whose discussions have helped to spark some of my best ideas. In fact, the idea for one of my favorite scenes (Arthur and Mordred's conversation on election night) would not have existed without those conversations. Immense gratitude, my friend :)_**

**_So we are now at the end. Again, I thank you for sticking with me to this point. I wanted to end with a summation of the show as a whole, so I hope the conclusion was satisfying (and for those wondering, the final words come from Arthur's speech in 5x12- I looked up quotes even from episodes that haven't aired in the US yet because I wanted to end with Arthur and one of his best, proudest speeches). I haven't asked for reviews in a while, but if you are so inclined, I would very much love to hear how you feel about my ending. Thank you all so very much._**

**_With love and gratitude,_**

**_~C_**


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